


Two Brothers, Many Paths

by Kimtana



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Papyrus (Undertale), Adorable Sans (Undertale), Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxious Sans (Undertale), Babybones (Undertale), Big Brother Sans (Undertale), Brotherly Love, Brothers, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Cinnamon Roll Papyrus (Undertale), Cinnamon Roll Sans (Undertale), Crying, Depressed Sans (Undertale), Depression, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Loss of Parent(s), Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Papyrus (Undertale) Knows More Than He Lets On, Papyrus (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Papyrus (Undertale), Protective Sans (Undertale), Sacrifice, Sad Papyrus (Undertale), Sad Sans (Undertale), Sans (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Sans (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Self-Sacrifice, Survival, Triggers, Worried Papyrus (Undertale), Worried Sans (Undertale), Younger Brother Papyrus (Undertale), trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 57
Words: 191,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25448851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimtana/pseuds/Kimtana
Summary: Sans and Papyrus, the two young skeleton brothers, lived a happy, peaceful life with their parents on the surface before the war. One day, that all changed.Now, they struggle to survive day to day, suffering tragedy, hardship, and loss.The world seems to be against them, but as long as they are together, they can handle anything. Right...?Takes place before and during the events of Undertale.New chapters uploaded on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and SaturdaysUndertale, its characters, locations, and gameplay copyright Toby Fox.Original characters created by me, Kimtana.Please do not use without both permission and credit.
Comments: 460
Kudos: 271





	1. Chapter 1

_“Is that…?”_

_“Mmhm.”_

_“He’s…so…_ tiny _!”_

_“I know, isn’t he precious?”_

_“I still can’t believe we…we’re an actual family now…”_

_“Isn’t it wonderful?”_

_“I-I’ve never felt so…_ happy _…so complete…”_

_“I know the feeling exactly.”_

_“He looks just like you, Dak.”_

_“And he has your eyes.”_

_“What shall we name him?”_

_“I was thinking…Sans.”_

_“Sans… That’s a wonderful name.”_

_“Mommy?”_

_“Yes, Sansy?”_

_“Are you ok? You were gone for a really long time…”_

_“Yes, of course! I’m fine, dear! Look…”_

_“W-what is that?”_

_“Here, come sit beside me. See?”_

_“Ooh, it’s moving!”_

_“Yes, my sweet. Come look.”_

_“Oh, wow…”_

_“Sans, this is your new baby brother.”_

_“B-brother?”_

_“Mmhm. His name is Papyrus.”_

The crisp, fall wind rustled the last remaining leaves in the forest trees. At the foot of one such tree stood a tiny skeleton. He stared up through the boughs of the wooden giant, grinning as he inhaled the scent of fallen leaves and the change of seasons. Soon it would be winter, and the thought of snow made him smile.

“Sans!” his mother’s voice called out from the distance. “Dinner!”

“Coming!” he called back.

He picked up the basket at his feet, filled with forage and fruit he had collected. Heavily laden, he trundled back slowly to the house, his stomach growling as the smell of stew wafted down the leaf-strewn path. Sans found the crunching and swishing sounds of the leaves under his feet and against his shinbones relaxing and invigorating.

At the end of the path, nestled in a woodland corner, stood their home. A short, rounded cliff face protected the rear and sides while the trees hid the small wooden house from view. Hung upon the outside windowsills were small flowerboxes in which herbs and sweet-smelling golden flowers grew.

His mother stood, smiling, in the open doorway to greet him. “Sansy, did you find more supplies for us?”

Sans lifted up the brimming basket as high as his tiny arms were able as he presented his findings, his eyes shut tight in glee as he beamed. “Yup!”

“You are so helpful, Sansy,” his mother praised as she bent down and rubbed his cheek tenderly with her thumb.

She relieved him of his burden and he ambled into the house eagerly. Sans quickly shrugged off his little blue jacket and hung it upon his coat hook in the hallway and scampered into the kitchen. The room was filled with the delicious aroma of stew still bubbling excitedly on the woodstove. The heat from the hard-working stove washed away the last remaining autumnal chill Sans had in his bones.

He ran for his wooden chair at the table, climbing up as his mother inspected the basket’s inventory.

“Apples, acorns, mushrooms…” she listed, pulling contents from the basket and laying them on the counter. “My goodness, you never cease to amaze me, Sansy. And you even got more wood for the stove and fireplace. Thank you!”

Sans grinned proudly as she placed the tiny sticks and bits of bark into the firewood bucket next to the stove. His mother smiled warmly at Sans with deep appreciation and love.

“I just wanna help, Mommy!” Sans exclaimed. “That way you don’t have to work so hard while Daddy’s away.”

A pang of sadness pierced her soul at his words. She knew Sans missed his father as much as she did. She always hid her sorrow from Sans, perpetually putting on a brave, happy front.

“You are so sweet,” she said warmly. “You are a big help, especially helping me take care of little Papyrus.”

Sans looked over at the small, high crib in the corner of the kitchen. Inside, the little skeleton slept soundlessly, rolled up in his blanket snugly, oblivious to the sounds around him. Sans grinned at the adorable bundle that was his brother.

Sans turned back to his mother, who was ladling stew into his bowl. His brow furrowed, and his grin melted into a frown.

“When Daddy gets back…you have to go…right?”

His mother froze mid-ladle. She shut her eyes and sighed sadly. “Yes, Sansy. I’m sorry.”

Sans tore his eyes from his mother to stare at a potato wedge in his stew. “It’s ok, Mommy. You don’t have to be sorry. I know it’s not your fault…”

His mother returned the stewpot to the stove and sat down at the table across from Sans. She reached out her hand and he put out his own. She grasped his hand, squeezing gently.

“I know it’s hard when your father and I have to leave,” she said quietly. “This war is making things difficult for all of us. Your father is doing important work for the King, and because someone has to take care of you and Papyrus, the Guard has allowed me to stay home while your father is away. There are times I need to leave to make sure this world is safe for you and Papyrus. But once this war is over, Sansy, your father and I will be able to stay home together, and we’ll get to do all the things we want to do as a family. It will be soon, I promise.”

Sans looked up into her reassuring face and grinned weakly. “Ok, Mommy…”

“But until then, little bones,” she smiled, raising an eyebrow and taking up her own spoon. “You’ve got to eat your dinner and keep yourself strong. Ok?”

Sans giggled and grasped his little spoon. “Ok!”

They dined together, his mother listening to the harrowing tales of Sans’ brave foraging trip that day.

Sans tossed another armload of leaves on the large pile. “There!”

He looked over at his little brother, who was sitting up on the grass next to the pile, cheering him on.

“Think that’s high enough?” Sans asked.

“Nyeh!” Papyrus giggled.

“You’re right, Pap,” Sans answered, tilting his head as he inspected the pile. “Could use a little more.”

Papyrus reached next to him and picked up a single orange leaf. He held it out for Sans.

“Oh!” Sans exclaimed. “That’s just what it needs!”

Sans took the leaf and reached on his tippy-toes to place it at the very top of the pile.

“Perfect!” Sans declared, Papyrus waving his arms in the air with triumph.

“Ok,” Sans smirked, narrowing his eyes. “You ready?”

Papyrus rocked side to side. “Nyeh!”

Sans jogged far away from the pile as his brother watched eagerly. When he had reached a fair distance, he turned around to face the pile and Papyrus. Sans broke into a sprint and, right before he reached the pile, jumped high into the air. He curled himself into a ball and hit the leaves with a force that burst the pile into a shower of red, yellow, orange, and brown. Papyrus laughed with joy as leaves rained down slowly over him.

Sans popped his head out of the remaining pile, a few leaves stuck to his skull. “How was that, Pap?”

“Nyeh!” Papyrus threw both arms up and waggled them excitedly.

Sans emerged from the pile and wiped the stray leaves off his jacket when his eye caught movement in the distance. Instinctively, he picked up Papyrus and quickly took him inside the house.

“Mommy!” Sans called out urgently when he had shut the door. “There’s someone out there!”

Sans took Papyrus into the living room and hid in the corner between the worn couch and the wall. It was rare for anyone to be near the house, and his parents had firmly instilled the fear of humans in him. He would never forget the time a human somehow found their home and tried to break in until their father fought him off. Sans shook off the memory as he rocked Papyrus, who was clutching him fearfully and whimpering. Sans shushed him gently as he strained his hearing.

“Greetings, knight,” their mother’s voice from the front doorway called.

Hearing the cordial greeting, Sans got up with relief and went over to the living room window, still holding Papyrus close to him. Out in the front yard was a Whimsalot, bobbing nervously in the air, the sun glinting off his armor. Sans and Papyrus stayed silent as they watched.

“Good day, Dakota,” the Whimsalot buzzed. “I bring official news from the Royal Guard.”

He pulled out a scroll of parchment and handed it to their mother. There was silence as she read the contents, then looked up at the Whimsalot.

“I-is this true?” she said. Sans detected a hint of fear in her voice that he had never heard before.

“I…I-I am afraid…so…” he stammered with great difficulty. “We have already lost thousands in the last few days alone. The humans are making a final push, and…and…” He weakly landed on the ground and looked up at her. “And it’s n-not looking good for us…”

“So the King has issued an evacuation…and I am needed in the battle…” Dakota said solemnly, looking down again at the parchment. “I understand. Thank you, good knight, for bringing me the news, dire as it is.”

“You are welcome, m’lady,” he bowed, his helmet tipping forward. “Please excuse me, I have others to give the news to.”

Dakota saluted and nodded, and the Whimsalot took off in a bobbing flight back down the path.

Sans and Papyrus watched their mother turn and enter the house and heard the front door shut. Sans, still holding Papyrus, went into the hallway. Their mother was leaning against the door with her hands over her eyes.

“M-mommy..?” Sans called quietly. He heard his own fear cutting into his voice.

Their mother immediately knelt down and hugged her two children tightly. This filled Sans with a chilling fear. Papyrus whimpered softly against his mother’s shoulder.

“M-mommy,” Sans stammered. “I-I’m scared…”

His mother pulled back to look Sans in the eyes. Her face was more serious than he had ever seen it.

“Sans, this is important,” she said, her tone grave. “We need to leave. We need to leave now.”

Sans’ eyes grew wide in terror as she continued.

“The humans are coming, so the King wants all of us to go somewhere safe. The letter I just got was to tell me to meet him and the others at Mt. Ebott where all of us will be hidden from the humans. I know this is scary, but we need to go quickly. But we will be safe, I promise you. We will be safe, and we’ll meet up with your father.”

“B-but…” tears started blinding Sans. “Y-you have to fight them…I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to get hurt…o-or…”

His mother wiped his tears with her thumbs. “Hush, now, Sansy,” she smiled gently. “I only have to fight with the others so we scare them off. The only way to make them leave us alone is to show them that we aren’t afraid of them. Then they will leave us alone, and we can return home. It will all be ok, but we’ve got to leave now.”

Sans nodded tearfully. His mother stood up and rubbed the top of his skull lovingly. “I need your help now, ok? Grab your haversack in the closet and fill it with food for us. We’re going to need to eat while we’re at the mountain, so we need enough for you, Papyrus, me, and your father, ok?”

Sans clutched Papyrus closer and nodded. “Ok, Mommy…”

“I’m going to get ready while you do that, then we’ll leave.”

“O-ok…”

She leaned down and kissed Sans and Papyrus on the tops of their heads then rushed upstairs.

Sans took Papyrus into the kitchen and sat him on the floor. He went into the hallway closet and found his grey haversack. He rushed back into the kitchen and searched through the shelves, cabinets, and baskets for food, stuffing in as much as he could. Papyrus watched him intently, occasionally sniffling. 

“It’s ok, Pap,” responded Sans, looking over his shoulder and grinning. “Mommy says it’s only for a little bit. Then we’ll have a picnic with her and Daddy, and then we’ll get to come back home.”

Papyrus whimpered, tears brimming his eyes.

“Don’t cry, Pap,” Sans reassured with a grin. He went over to his brother and wiped his eyes with his thumbs just as his mother had. “We’ll be ok. I’ll take care of you, just like I always do.”

Their mother entered the kitchen wearing her Royal Guard armor. Sans had always thought how cool his mother looked in her gear, but now the sight of it made him sick to his stomach.

“Nearly ready?” she asked, smiling as if they were about to take a fun trip to the lake.

“Y-yeah,” Sans answered, looking down at the stuffed haversack.

“Good,” she beamed. She looked down at Papyrus for a moment and her face fell. “Oh…”

She furrowed her brow in thought, then looked down at the red cape hanging off her armor. She rushed to the counter, pulled out a kitchen knife, and quickly cut a long strip from the cape. She picked up Papyrus, sat him on the kitchen table, and, wrapping the strip around him, fashioned a make-shift sling that swaddled the little skeleton so he could not budge.

“Here, Sans,” she said, putting the sling over Sans’ head around his shoulder. Papyrus’ head lay comfortably against Sans’ chest and he nuzzled in. Sans patted his brother’s back gently and looked up at his mother.

“You are far stronger than I am, Sans,” his mother said, patting his head. “You can carry the food and your brother while I bring us to the mountain. I might need to scare off a human or two along the way, so I can’t hold Papyrus myself.”

Sans shouldered the haversack awkwardly, Papyrus throwing off his balance. He felt enormously strong with the added weight of his brother on his front and the food on his back. “You can count on me, Mommy!”

“I know I can, Sansy,” she smiled, trying to keep the sadness off her face. “Before we go, let me check to make sure you’re both at full health.”

She put her hand on Papyrus’ tiny, bundled chest and shut her eyes. Sans watched the muted white glow of his brother’s soul under the wrappings. She smiled, “100 HP.”

She removed her hand from Papyrus and pressed it against the only portion of Sans’ chest she could touch with Papyrus against it. Sans felt his soul stir within his ribcage and watched the white glow. His mother closed her eyes again, opened them, and smiled.

“250 HP. Great, you’re both at full health. Let’s go.”

The skeletons left their home, and as their mother shut the front door she said, for the little one’s benefit, “Goodbye, home! We’ll be back soon! Be safe!”

Sans waved to his little house. “Be safe! We’ll be right back!”

His mother patted his head again, then they rushed off down the leaf-strewn path.

========

Concept art of young Sans with even younger Papyrus in the sling. Accidentally made Papyrus a wee bit too small (he's one and a half Sans-heads shorter than Sans), but drew this more to illustrate how the sling looks, and how Sans wears it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first chapter of a story I've been dreaming up in my head for a while. Much of what you'll see is personal headcanon and theories I've developed over time, sort of like explanations for things we see in the game. Sans and Papyrus are my favorite Undertale characters, and I love the idea of exploring their brotherly relationship. Hope you enjoy! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Sans had never been so vigilant in his life before now. Every sound, every movement, _everything_ made him jump, expecting a human to run out suddenly and attack. He hoped that his pounding soul didn’t wake up Papyrus, who had fallen asleep peacefully despite the panic afflicting Sans. The adrenaline of fear ensured that Sans did not tire despite the rather long distance his mother and he had covered in a short amount of time.

Sans glanced up at his mother as they walked swiftly between the trees. Her face was tense in alertness, eyes darting back at forth, her aural and visual awareness piqued. They moved in silence aside from their rustling footsteps through the fallen leaves. Sans was terrified to breathe or swallow for fear it would make too much noise.

After an eternity of this hurried pace, his mother froze, catching Sans sharply with her arm to stop him. Sans felt the terror rising up his spine as he heard what had alerted his mother—crunching footsteps through leaves in the woods.

Footsteps that were increasing in volume.

Footsteps that were coming closer.

Sans’ mother guided him closer to a nearby tree, creeping soundlessly. She stood in front of Sans to shield him from the approaching enemy, and Sans watched as her hands shone with a blue-white light. She clasped her hands together and as she pulled them slowly apart, a large, light blue bone appeared. It was sharp at one end, resembling a broadsword. His mother grasped the weapon firmly in her hands, poised in a fighting stance, ready to defend against the unknown.

Suddenly the noise stopped and the woods were silent, aside from the pounding in Sans’ ears as he held his breath fearfully. His entire body was shaking so much he was sure the sound of his rattling bones would lead the danger to them.

Through the trees, a blue-white light shone dimly. The midday sunlight made it difficult to see, but it was unmistakable. Their mother relaxed, standing up straight and breathing a deep sigh of relief.

“It’s ok, Sans,” she said, her voice low. “It’s another skeleton.”

She walked towards the light, holding her own bone-sword up high over her head to show that she, too, was a skeleton. Sans trotted alongside her timidly. As they drew closer, they saw that it was indeed another skeleton, armed with his own bone-sword. Judging by his armor, Sans knew he was also in the Royal Guard.

“Palatino,” she sighed wearily, clapping her hand against her helmet. “You made us jump out of our skins. I am glad to see you, friend.”

“Dakota...,” Palatino breathed. “You’re still alive. Oh, thank goodness!” He rushed to embrace her tearfully. “I hadn’t seen you in so long. I-I thought they got you.”

Dakota returned the hug and stepped back. “No, I’m still here. I’ve been on leave taking care of my sons while their father is away serving the King.”

She turned to Sans and the snoozing Papyrus and smiled, gesturing to Palatino with her bone-sword. “Sans, this is my dear friend Palatino. We go way, way back, even before we joined the guard.”

Sans looked up at the skeleton’s face shyly, clutching Papyrus close. “Hi....”

Palatino tipped his helmet in greetings. “Nice to finally meet you, Sans. Your mom talks about you and your brother all the time.”

“I got word about the evacuation,” Dakota said. “So we’re heading to Mt. Ebott now. Are you heading that way?”

“Yes,” he answered, and they started walking on together. “I was scouting out here when I got word to head to back to the unit at once.”

“I received the same word,” Dakota sighed. She then gave Palatino a meaningful look. “I told Sans how the King wanted us all to gather at Mt. Ebott to hide out there safely while I help you and the others scare away any humans around until it’s ok to go back home.”

Palatino looked sadly at Dakota, then down at Sans, who was looking forward at the approaching mountain. Palatino raised his eyes back to meet Dakota’s, his voice far more hopeful than the sorrowful expression on his face. “Yeah, that’s what I was told, too. We should have them scared off in no time.”

The skeletons soon crested a hill at the edge of the forest and gasped.

Below them were scores of monsters engaged in battle at the west side of Mt. Ebott. Pushing them back towards the mountain in waves like a vast ocean were the humans. Their forces out-numbered the monsters by at least a hundred to one. Littered about the valley at the base of Mt. Ebott were slain bodies of humans. All around the battlefield were billows of white, cloud-like—

“Dust...,” Dakota breathed in shock. “So...much...dust....”

Sans hid behind his mother, clutching her leg. He was shaking so much that Papyrus began to stir. Sans wanted to go home. He wanted to go back to his safe home with his mother, his father, and his brother. He wanted to leave everything that was happening down in the valley far behind. He wanted nothing more than to run away. Tears silently poured down from his eyes.

Dakota shook her head. “I was told that the King wanted us to take refuge in the mountain, so he must have a plan. But I am not taking my children through that.” She pointed at the east side of the mountain, untouched by the battle. “There’s a small cavern over there that leads inside the mountain. That’s where I’m going.”

Palatino put his hand on her shoulder encouragingly. “I will go with you.”

They ran down the hillside, giving wide berth to the battle. As they neared the mountain, they saw a group marching along the mountain base. They hesitated momentarily, but saw the blue-white weapons almost immediately, and rushed to join them. It was a skeletal foot patrol unit led by their captain, Cambria.

“Palatino, Dakota, you got our message,” Cambria sighed gratefully. The two skeletons saluted her.

“Cambria, I’m taking my sons to the small cavern just over there,” Dakota explained, putting her hand on her silent and shaking older son.

“I understand,” Cambria smiled kindly. “King Asgore has us skeletons doing perimeter sweeps to make sure that there are no ambushing humans. He says our close resemblance to humans makes us perfect scouters for this, so all skeletal units are out here combing the area. You can rest assured that we’ve come across no humans, other than those in the main battle.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dakota nodded, slightly relieved. She looked down at Sans, smiling. “Sans, you hear that? You’ll be safe there until I get back.”

Sans nodded shakily, unable to speak.

“We’ll wait for you here,” her captain said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dakota saluted. “I’ll be just a moment.”

Dakota rushed forward, leading Sans to the small cavern opening. The rocky cave offered several stone formations that were perfect for keeping her children out of sight. Further into the cave was a large opening in the floor. Peering down carefully, Dakota could tell it was a perilous drop.

“Sans, don’t go anywhere near this hole, ok?” She turned from the opening to see Sans sitting on the floor, weeping uncontrollably into his jacket sleeve.

“Oh, Sans, Sansy,” his mother rushed over to kneel next to him. “Hush, now, Sansy. It’s ok. You’ll be safe here, and I will be right back.” She hugged him and his brother tightly, kissing them both on their cheekbones. “I will be fine, I promise you. Don’t be scared. Be brave, and take care of your brother while I’m gone, Sans. And whatever you do, do not leave this cave.”

Sans nodded as tears flooded down his face. “I-I will, Mommy....”

Their mother stood up, the smile never leaving her face as she desperately kept her tears from showing. “I love you both. I’ll be right back.”

She gave them each one last kiss on the top of their skulls and left the cave, the tears flowing freely now that she was out of their sight.

Sans wiped his eyes and looked down at Papyrus. The little skeleton whimpered softly as his tears trickled down his tiny cheeks. Sans hugged his brother tight, acting happier than he truly felt for the sake of Papyrus. “Don’t worry, Pap. She’ll be back before you know it.” He grinned wide. “I know, let’s have something to eat while we wait.”

He pulled off the sling and laid Papyrus down on the floor of the cave, then shrugged off the haversack. He stretched out his tired, aching back, his joints popping and cracking. He winked at Papyrus. “Hoo boy, that’s better. I feel light as a feather now.”

Papyrus cracked a tiny smile. Sans took off his coat, rolled it up, and propped it under his brother’s head. He didn’t want to unwrap his brother since they’d be returning home soon, and he most certainly didn’t want to chance Papyrus crawling around and falling down the gaping hole just a few feet away from them.

As he opened the haversack, he heard shouting outside the cavern. He jerked straight up and turned to Papyrus urgently. “Stay here. I’m going to check and see what that was. Don’t move, Pap.” Sans raised his left hand and several white bones shot straight up from the cavern floor surrounding Papyrus in a make-shift crib to ensure he stayed put.

He crept out from behind the stone formation and made his way towards the mouth of the cavern. Before he reached the opening, he froze as he saw where the shouting had come from.

Dakota wiped away the blinding tears as she reached the unit. “Sorry, Cambria,” she apologized.

The captain placed both hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it, Dakota. We understand completely. We know this is difficult. But we can do this! We can push the humans back and show them we have every right to live in this land, too. We won’t let them—”

“ _HRK!_ ”

“ _Rockwell!_ ”

The skeleton fell to his knees, clutching the arrow that was protruding from his throat. He looked up at Cambria pleadingly, then slowly dissipated into white dust.

“Ambush!” Cambria shouted, raising her dual bone-swords.

The humans came out of nowhere. A skilled bone-thrower dispatched the handful of archers to prevent further projectile attacks, but was taken down by a swordsman. One skeleton ran head-long with her sword out in front of her, impaling several humans before she was brought down under the weight of attackers. Another skeleton, armed with two large bone-swords, set about literally disarming as many humans as he could by slicing off their weapon hands until he was outnumbered and overcome.

Dust soon filled the air as the skeleton unit fought bravely. Dakota skillfully swung her sword as she dodged effortlessly around the attackers in a graceful dance of flashing blue. She had to make every move count—her sons’ lives depended on it.

In the corner of her eye, she saw Cambria fall, impaled by a spear that was longer than both her swords. Palatino avenged his captain by returning the favor, then joined Dakota. The two skeleton friends fought back to back, a tactic they had used successfully and skillfully for ages. Human after human fell, unable to break their guard. The two skeletons watched as their comrades fell one after another, but Dakota noted that the humans were thinning quickly. Suddenly, she felt Palatino fall against her back and felt the sickening feeling of him dusting behind her.

“ _Palatino! No!_ ” she cried out. The loss of her dear friend fueled an angered fire within her, and she burst through the humans crowding her in, killing all of them with one swipe. The temporary respite allowed her to look back at Palatino’s dust pile as it drifted in the breeze. She tearfully turned and ran towards the next human.

Off in the distance, a loud voluminous roar from the main force of humans rumbled through the air like thunder. The sound made both humans and skeletons cease suddenly. The humans looked up at the mountain and echoed the roar of triumph. The remaining skeletons turned to Mt. Ebott to see what made the humans so elated.

An iridescent, film-like substance slowly draped down the mountain like a thin sheet. It was both a mesmerizing and terrifying phenomenon.

“What is that...?” one of the skeletons asked in shock.

“Your kind’s end!” a human snarled gleefully, stabbing the inquiring skeleton.

The battle immediately resumed. The humans were now empowered by their strange victory, and the skeletons were battle weary and confused by what was happening to Mt. Ebott. 

Dakota fought intensely, although her energy was draining. But she couldn’t give up. She had to keep fighting to protect her sons. They were depending on her to return to the cavern—

“S-sans?” she gasped.

Dakota had glanced momentarily at the cavern and was stunned to see Sans just visible within the mouth of the cave. If she could see him, then any of the humans could as well. If they saw him, they would invade the cavern and kill him and Papyrus. With renewed vigor, she fought through the mass of humans before her, making her way towards the cavern.

Sans had been watching the battle the whole time, wide-eyed and paralyzed with terror. He saw his mother fighting her way towards him, and stared in horror as he noticed several humans following her. Thinking that she was about the be attacked without her knowing, he found the feeling in his legs and started running forward to warn her.

“ _Mommy! Look out!_ ”

His mother, fully aware of the humans running up behind her, deftly swung her bone-sword in a deadly circular spin. As she looked to make sure that they were no longer a threat, she heard the blood-curdling scream of Sans from the cavern.

The moment Sans had reached the opening, the magic barrier that the human magicians had cast flowed down the mountain and reached the cave entrance. It cascaded down just as Sans crossed the threshold, slicing through his tiny body. The barrier pierced through his soul like a slow guillotine, sending Sans into excruciating pain. He was trapped by the thin sheet of magic, frozen in place by the substance—the front half of his body outside the mountain barrier, his back half inside of the cavern. The magic of humans combined with the monster magic in his body and soul reacted violently. Flashing white light burst from Sans vividly and the immense power of two opposing forces of magic whipped around the little skeleton like an intense wind. He screeched as his soul started to tear apart, and his HP plummeted at an alarming rate. The blinding, searing pain was unbearable, but he could do nothing to escape it.

“ _Sans!_ ” his mother cried out in panic.

She threw her bone-sword down and swiftly raised her left hand in Sans’ direction. His soul, ravaged within his ribcage, suddenly turned deep blue. She clenched her hand partially, as if grasping his very soul from afar, pulled back, then shoved forward. Sans was propelled backwards, the force freeing him from the barrier. He landed on the cave floor with a thud. After a moment, he stirred, lifting his head up. His soul ached horrendously and his vision was blurry.

“...M-mommy...,” he whispered, barely making a sound.

He struggled to get up, managing only to lift himself up on his elbows. He saw his mother running towards the cavern, calling out for him. She was nearly there. He crawled over to the cave opening, but the opalescent barrier prevented him from going further.

“...No...,” he whimpered, banging the transparent wall weakly. It was as hard as thick glass. “...Mommy...Mommy!” he cried out. He struggled to pull himself up on his knees, feebly hammering his tiny fists against the barrier.

His mother came to a halt as she watched her son banging against the cave opening, a horrible realization dawning on her.

Now she understood why the humans had cheered.

Now she knew what the substance flowing down the mountain was.

Her children were trapped in the mountain, and she was sealed out.

That’s when Sans saw him.

A human had seen his mother standing with her back to the battle and ran towards her, sword raised.

Sans started screaming in a panic, pummeling the barrier furiously. “ _Mommy! Mommy! Behind you!_ ”

But it was too late. His mother jerked forward as the sword impaled her through her back out the front of her armor. She fell to her knees as the human ripped his sword free with a cruel sneer and ran back into the fray.

“ _No! NO!”_ Sans’ high-pitch screech rattled the cavern walls.

His mother, slowly collapsing down upon the grass, reached out to her son, smiling as tears rolled down her face.

Sans pressed himself against the barrier in stunned disbelief, his eyes wide, tears flowing freely. “Mommy...,” he sobbed. “No.... Don’t go...don’t leave me...you promised....”

“Sansy...,” Her voice was gentle but pained. “I’m sorry.... B-be strong.... Take care of Papyrus.... I-I love you, Sans....”

His mother slowly started to dust off, the smile on her face never waning. Soon, she was nothing more than white dust carried off by the wind.

The anguishing cry that emanated from the young skeleton echoed throughout the cavern and valley. He collapsed onto the cavern floor, weak from his injuries and his grief. He wept bitterly into dirt until exhaustion and weakness overtook his body and he lost consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

The skull-bursting headache nudged Sans awake as muffled screaming filled the back of his consciousness. He winced and struggled to open his eyes. He gasped when he couldn’t see anything, but soon his vision adjusted enough to show the muted outlines of his surroundings. It was now nighttime—he’d been unconscious for hours. His mind was covered in a thick cloud of confusion. The ear-splitting cries jerked him into reality.

_Papyrus!_

Sans painfully lifted himself up slightly. He was still groggy—no, _exhausted_ —and his body ached as if he’d fallen down a thousand cliffs. His brother’s cries echoed all around the cave and Sans was disoriented in the darkness. He slumped on his side to free his hands and clasped his palms together. As he pulled them apart, a small light blue bone appeared. The blue-white light illuminated the cavern enough that Sans could make out where he was.

He looked around and saw the white bones that penned Papyrus peeking out from the stone formation he was hidden behind. Sans lay the blue bone on the ground as he tried to stand. The moment he was on his feet, his knees buckled and he collapsed painfully on the cavern floor, crying out in anguish. He lay on the ground a moment, trying to muster any sort of energy he could, the heart-breaking wails of his brother repeating over and over.

Sans grabbed the blue bone and tossed it weakly in the direction of Papyrus. It landed pitifully a few feet in front of him, and he dragged himself excruciatingly across the rugged ground, pulling his useless legs behind him as he grunted and panted. When he reached the bone, he threw it in front of him again and dragged himself forward. He continued this way for what seemed like miles, exerting every effort he had remaining, until he finally reached the hysterically crying Papyrus, still secure in the bone crib Sans had fashioned.

When Papyrus saw his brother at long last, his wails softened to quick, broken sobs. Sans had no idea how long his poor brother had been alone like this. He pulled himself up beside Papyrus, collapsing onto his stomach in exhaustion, and weakly extended his hand through the white bones to the still-swaddled up toddler. He gently rubbed his brother’s stomach, hushing him as he gasped for breath.

“Shh, hehh, hehh, shh, Pap...,” he comforted. “Hehh, it’s ok, hehh.... I’m, hehh, hehh, here now....”

Papyrus writhed to get free of his cloth prison, but Sans patted him more. “No, hehh, hehh, not yet, Pap, hehh, hehh, we need to wait, hehh, hehh, until Mommy—”

The memory of that afternoon’s events came flooding back in a jolting rush. Sans’ eyes grew wide, reliving the moment his mother died in front of him, tears pouring fourth uncontrollably.

“No! No! _No!_ ” he cried out in a panic, grasping the sides of his skull. He banged his head on the cavern floor repeatedly in grief.

Papyrus whimpered, unable to comprehend what was wrong with his older brother, “N-nyeh...?”

Sans lifted his head and tearfully looked at Papyrus through the glow of the bone-white light. How could he explain to Papyrus how their mother had been taken from them? How she would never come back? How she would never hold him or squeeze him or smile at him again?

Sans wept openly as he looked into his brother’s eyes. “P-Papyrus... I...I...,” he sobbed. “I-I’m so sorry!” His voice ripped from his throat painfully. “ _I’m so sorry! Pap, I’m so sorry!_ ”

He dissolved into a bawling heap, curling into the fetal position as the grief, guilt, and pain ravaged his soul. He wept loudly, his sorrow shattering through him like hot knives, until his little body gave out in exhaustion and he blacked out once more.

Sans woke a while later. He looked hazily over at Papyrus, who appeared to have also fallen asleep. Sans lay on his side, lacking any energy to go on. But as he looked at his brother, he watched Papyrus’ chest rise and fall slightly with each breath. He didn’t want to go on, but he needed to for Papyrus’ sake.

 _“Take care of Papyrus....”_ His mother’s words echoed in his mind.

Sans winced at the memory, fresh tears seeping out. She was right. Papyrus needed him.

He pulled himself up painfully to a sitting position, leaning against the stone formation. He weakly reached over and grabbed his haversack and agonizingly pulled it over to him. Tired from the effort, he rested and caught his breath.

“Hey, Pap...,” he called quietly. His brother stirred, his face contorting as he slowly awoke. “Pap, wake up...you’ve got to eat....”

Papyrus’s opened his eyes sleepily, twisting his head slightly in a yawn. Then he started struggling to get out of the sling.

“Pap, no,” Sans urged, reaching through the bone bars of the crib to rub his brother’s stomach, soothing him. “I know you’ve been in that all day, but I don’t know...h-how t-to....” His voice cracked and tears fell as Sans recalled his mother wrapping his brother up for travel. “I-I don’t know how to wrap it back up. It’s just for a little while longer.”

Sans pulled out a button mushroom from the haversack and broke a piece off. Grunting and wincing painfully, he leaned towards Papyrus and held it in front of his mouth. Papyrus looked at it briefly, then opened his tiny mouth.

“There you go,” Sans grinned as he popped the mushroom piece in.

Papyrus chewed it slowly, then opened his mouth for more. Piece by piece, Sans fed his brother the mushroom, then a small hunk of bread. When Papyrus had had his fill, Sans placed his hand on Papyrus’ chest and closed his eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, your HP is full.”

Sans leaned back against the stone formation and sighed wearily. “I think I’m going to have to eat the whole bag to restore _my_ HP.” He winced, remembering the searing pain of the barrier through his soul. “How much _did_ I lose?”

He put his hand on his own chest and closed his eyes. Through his eyelids, he saw the muted white glow from his chest, but he was confused by the reading.

He shook his head quickly. “That can’t be right.... Let me try that again.”

He checked his HP again and received the same number. His eyes shot open and he started to panic. “No...no, no, no....” He checked a third time, his hand trembling.

1 HP/1 HP.

He started breathing heavily, fear rising up his spine. “ _H-how?!_ My max was 250, why is it 1 now?! What happened?!” The pain of the barrier slicing through his soul echoed through his mind. “Th-that... that _thing_.... D-did...did that thing...?”

Sans clutched his chest as he started panting sharply, his eyes wide. Papyrus whimpered, seeing his brother in distress. Panic flooded through Sans, drowning him under waves of terror.

“O-only 1 HP.... only o-one...,” he stammered hysterically. “I-I’ve tripped and lost 10.... I-I banged my elbow and lost 2.... I-I’m going to d-die.... _I’m going to die!_ ”

Papyrus saw Sans hyperventilating and started to writhe frantically in his wrappings. When Sans didn’t respond, he cried out to him. But Sans was panicking too severely, unaware of anything around him. Papyrus then started kicking out his wrapped feet, banging against the bones that kept him confined, crying out loudly. Suddenly, he let out a long, ear-splitting screech and numerous tiny white bones shot out of the cavern floor, hit the ceiling with a rushing clatter, and rained down on them both.

The shower of miniscule bones snapped Sans back into reality. He blinked, gasping for breath, and looked from the crying Papyrus to the little bones scattered around them.

“Pap...?” Sans whispered. He raised his left palm and the bone crib dissolved away. With all the effort he could summon, he leaned over and picked up his bundled little brother, grunting with pain and exertion. He sat back, settling Papyrus in his arms and lap and rocked him gently.

“I’m sorry...,” he whispered, stroking Papyrus’ tear-soaked cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He grinned soothingly at Papyrus, who was still frowning through welled up tears.

“It’s ok. We’re going to be ok,” he said, as if trying to convince even himself. “I’m going to take care of you, we’re going to get out of here and find Daddy, and we’re going to be ok. And do you know why?”

Papyrus stammered with quivering lips. “N...nyeh...?”

Sans picked him up, holding him face to face. He creased his eyes and smiled. “Because I have you, and you have me. As long as we’re together, we’ll be ok.”

Papyrus’s face broke into a grin. “Nyeh!”

Sans hugged Papyrus to him, nuzzling his skull against his brother’s, and rocked. “I love you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Sans had been rocking Papyrus on his lap as he took stock of the situation. The cavern entrance was blocked, and, from what he could tell—having created several glowing blue bones and tossing them around the area to light it up—the cave had no other openings aside from the giant gaping hole in the floor. Sans picked up one of the tiny bones and threw it weakly into the hole. It disappeared, and silence followed.

“Must be really deep,” Sans gulped, glancing at Papyrus. “I hope it has a bottom.”

Sans sighed concernedly. If that hole was the only way, getting down would be impossible. They didn’t have any rope, and aside from stones and rocks, the cavern only had a few vines along the floor and walls. The bigger problem, however, was Sans’ condition. The injury he sustained at the cave entrance had greatly weakened him, and he was not strong enough to even stand. They couldn’t go anywhere until he was able to walk on his own two feet again.

The reading of his single HP max flashed across his memory. He shivered. _What if I never get stronger?_

Papyrus struggled in his sling again. The little skeleton had been wrapped up all day. Sans realized he must have been uncomfortable and made the difficult decision to release him.

“You ready to get out of that thing?”

“Nyeh!” Papyrus answered enthusiastically.

Sans looked at the hole and raised his left palm. Large white bones sprung up high around the rim of the hole like a fence. “Can’t have you falling down there.”

Slowly, he started unwrapping the sling that had encased his brother. His hands trembled and tears fell silently as he pulled apart the strip of red cloth his mother had so carefully wrapped up. At last, the little skeleton was free, and he lifted his arms up and waved them happily.

“Heh,” Sans laughed, wiping his eyes before his brother saw the escaping tears. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

Sans carefully folded the strip from his mother’s red armor cape with shaky hands and tucked it in the haversack. Papyrus got to his feet and wobbled momentarily, then started ambling around.

Sans reached out his hand urgently. “Careful! I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Papyrus answered him in babble-speak, and continued exploring the cavern with his newfound freedom. This gave Sans an idea, even if it wasn’t the most ideal of ones.

“Hey, Pap,” he called. “Can you see if there’s any holes in the walls for me? Anything we can go through to get out of here? But don’t go in them yourself, just tell me about them, ok?”

Papyrus grinned from ear to ear, more than happy to help his big brother. Sans watched as the little skeleton scampered over to the wall and started patting at it, as if to make sure it was indeed solid. He shifted to the side a couple steps and patted the wall again. He repeated this process all along the cave, at some points—to Sans’ distress—disappearing behind other stony formations out of sight. After a while, he ambled back over to Sans.

“Did you check all the walls?” Sans asked.

Papyrus nodded proudly.

“Any holes?”

The little skeleton shook his head, his face drooping sadly.

“No, no, it’s ok,” Sans said encouragingly. “You did a great job! Now we know that big hole is the only way out.”

At this, Papyrus perked up and grinned. “Nyeh!”

“Can you help me with something else?”

His little brother nodded emphatically.

“See all those vines everywhere?” He pointed out several places. “Can you bring me as many as you can find?”

Without hesitation, Papyrus shuffled over to some vines, bent down with his arms wide, and gathered them in a hug against his body. He waddled back to Sans, plopped them in his lap, and went off for another batch.

Sans was glad that Papyrus was in good spirits, despite his mother’s absence. Visions of her in the valley flashed in his memory, and immediately Sans shook his head to clear them before the sadness overtook him again. He distracted himself by inspecting the vines.

They were thick, but he doubted they would be able to hold the weight of him, his brother, and their food supplies down a potentially bottomless pit. However, figuring that they might prove useful somehow, he pulled the leaves off and coiled them, putting aside those that were dried out and crumbling. Papyrus returned several times with armloads of vines. The brothers worked on their tasks in silence in the blue-white glow of the scattered bones.

Papyrus presented Sans with the last of the vines and flumped on the cavern floor beside his brother and watched him work.

Sans rubbed the top of Papyrus’ skull. “Thanks, Pap. This is a huge help. You did a _vine_ job.”

Papyrus giggled, rocking back and forth. Sans grinned.

He put the coil of vines in one of the pockets of the haversack. Then he looked down at the leaves and dried out vines.

“We could use those for a fire,” he said thoughtfully. Then he winced sadly. “I don’t know how, though....”

His parents had taught him many things—foraging, crafting, creating bones, certain skeletal magic techniques—but he had been too young to learn how to build a fire.

Fortunately, he had lighting from the blue bones, the food he brought didn’t need cooking, and the cold didn’t affect him or his brother too much, so fire wasn’t a necessity right now. Afraid to discard them and then find themselves in a situation that required them, he put them in the haversack pocket with the vines. Preparedness was another skill his mother and father had ingrained in him.

Having finished the lengthy task, Sans figured it was time to try to stand up again. He pushed himself up and leaned on the stone formation, but his knees buckled again. He fell on the floor hard, crying out in pain. Papyrus rushed over to him, whimpering as he put his tiny hands on Sans’ back. Sans pulled his hand underneath him to put over his chest to check his health—0.95 HP/1 HP.

Sans lifted his head up weakly, his voice strained. “Looks like we’re not leaving tonight, Pap.”

Papyrus trotted over to Sans’ jacket, where it still lay heaped up where the “crib” had once been. Papyrus returned to Sans’ side and gently put the jacket on his big brother like a blanket.

Sans laughed weakly. “Yeah, we should get some sleep.”

Papyrus dragged the haversack over to his brother laboriously and pushed it against Sans’ head. Sans realized what his brother was doing and lifted his head for the “pillow” his brother provided and laid his head down sideways on it.

“Thanks, Pap....”

He reached in the bag and pulled out a small piece of dried fruit and quickly ate it to bring himself to “full” health.

Papyrus got on his hands and knees and crawled against Sans, nudging his brother’s arm with his head and snuggled in beside him. Sans pulled the jacket around so that Papyrus, too, was covered and wrapped his arms around his brother, nuzzling the top of his head with his chin.

The two brothers fell asleep, bathed in the blue-white glow of bones, feeling the brief respite of peace in the knowledge that they had each other.


	4. Chapter 4

The sense of movement nearby slowly roused Sans. Having no desire to waken, he merely shifted his body slightly, making sure not to disturb Papyrus. That’s when he realized his arms were empty and no longer holding his little brother. He snapped his eyes open and lifted his head up immediately.

Papyrus was sitting a short distance away, playing with the tiny bones he had created the night before. He noticed that Sans had woken up and grinned at him.

Relief washed over Sans like a cool breeze, and he breathed the anxiety out of his lungs with a deep sigh. “Morning, Pap.”

Papyrus answered with babble-speak and continued playing with the bones.

The morning sunlight poured into the cave, brightening the stony interior with its soft yellow light, the light blue bones looking dim in comparison. The sounds of birds chirping and warbling trilled outside, signaling the start of a new day.

Sans sat up, stretching his arms, neck, and back, his joints popping loudly. The pain in his body was much better and his weakness had subsided somewhat. It was certainly much easier for him to sit up than it had been the night before. The dull ache in his bones from the last fall he had suffered the night before reminded him to check his health to make sure the bit of food he had eaten had helped. When he checked he was stunned.

10 HP/1 HP.

“Wh-what?” he gasped. “How is my HP higher than my max? Why would that—”

He stopped, suddenly remembering something his father used to always say. When he and Papyrus would defy their bedtime, their father used to plead with them by saying that sleep was good for them.

_Don’t stay up longer, sleep makes you stronger._

His father’s adage echoed in Sans’ mind. Sans checked his health again, just to be sure. He was still 9 HP higher than his new maximum.

“Was Daddy right the whole time?” Sans wondered. He’d never noticed, but then again, he typically didn’t check his HP first thing in the morning. Being the young skeleton that he was, he would go an entire day of scrapes and bruises before checking his HP, which he rarely did anyways since it had always been so high.

It wasn’t 250 HP, but 10 was certainly better than 1, so he was relieved with the added health. Especially since he was facing a bottomless pit descension in the near future. He wondered if he would gain even more the following day if he didn’t injure himself. He toyed with the idea of sleeping until his HP was back at 250, but he realized that would take weeks.

“Pap, want some breakfast?” He pulled the haversack in front of him.

At the mention of food, Papyrus jumped up from the tiny bones, waddled over, and plunked himself down in front of his brother eagerly.

“Heh,” Sans grinned as he opened the bag. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He pulled out a wedge of cheese and some bread. He broke off a portion of the cheese and handed it to his brother. The little skeleton held the cheese in both hands and chomped down hungrily on it. Sans smiled at Papyrus’ cuteness as he tore a piece of the bread off and put it in his brother’s lap.

They ate their food silently, Papyrus focused purely on eating and Sans deep in thought.

They had to find their father. The only problem was, Sans had no idea where to begin to look. He remembered hearing his mother say that he was serving the King. Did that mean he was with the monsters being swarmed by the hordes of humans they saw when they first crested the hill? What if he, too, had been killed in the battle? Sans shook his head quickly to wipe the painful thought from his mind. He couldn’t bear to lose his father as well. No, he had to believe he was still alive, they just needed to find him.

Sans recalled his mother telling her friend that the King wanted the monsters to go to the mountain to hide, and that the cavern they were hiding in somehow led to the rest of the mountain, most probably down the giant hole. The other monsters might already be inside the mountain on the other side. Sans sighed, remembering how large Mt. Ebott was, figuring it would take ages to reach it. He wasn’t even sure which way to go if he found more than one tunnel or path.

Sans stopped himself. He was getting too discouraged, he needed to focus on a plan. If the monsters were on the other side, and the cavern he and his brother were in eventually led to the other side, like his mother said, there might be a chance that the monsters might also travel further into the mountain through their side. And if their father hadn’t seen his family in the group he was in, maybe he would search through the mountain for them, and he and Papyrus would eventually meet into him and be reunited.

Sans nodded to himself resolutely. Yes, surely their father would look for them, and he would be in the mountain like they were. It would be a while, but they would be back together soon, and they would leave the mountain from the other side and return back home. He was sure of it.

As he popped the last morsel of bread and cheese in his mouth, he wondered how much longer the food he had packed would last them. While he had crammed the haversack full with as much food as he could fit, it wouldn’t last forever. When he had finished eating, he spread out his jacket and, tipping the haversack over, poured the food onto it. He tossed the bag aside and examined their food stock.

There were several large wedges of cheese, a few small bread loaves, scores of nuts in small cloth pouches, several handfuls of dried fruit and berries, over a dozen apples, several pears, a dozen and a half button mushrooms, and a few large carrots. The mushrooms and bread would be the first to spoil, he reasoned, followed by the cheese. The nuts would last the longest, but they wouldn’t fill them up as much.

Sans ran his hand over his skull as he planned their future meals and started to get worried. While the food spread out on his jacket seemed like a lot, they would have to eat sparingly since Sans had no idea how long they were going to be there or how they would get any more. What kind of food could possibly be found inside a mountain?

“We need to leave here soon,” Sans uttered under his breath.

That led to the next problem—he needed a way to take Papyrus down with him safely. There was no way he could wrap Papyrus in the strip of cloth like his mother had to make a sling, and if he didn’t do it right, Papyrus would fall into.... He shook his head, shuddering at the thought.

As he was racking his brain, his eyes fell on the empty haversack and the still-munching Papyrus inches away from it. He wagered that the haversack might be large enough for Papyrus to fit in, and being strapped to Sans’ back would be the safest way to transport his brother. The only way to know would be to try.

While his brother finished, Sans put as much food as he could in the empty side pockets. If Papyrus was going to be in the main pocket, he couldn’t have his brother accidentally destroying the only food they had. He did not, however, put any food in the small left-side pocket in which the strip of cloth from their mother’s red cape had been placed. He wanted that to be in a pocket all its own.

Much of the food remained on his jacket, so he carefully wrapped it up it tight, then used some of the vines to tie it into a bundle. He used more vines to tie it to the front of the haversack and tugged it, making sure it was secure.

By now Papyrus was picking the last bit of crumbs off his clothes and eating them.

“Hey, Pap,” his brother called. “I need to see if I can carry you in my bag. Come here for a sec.”

Papyrus raised an eyebrow, imagining himself stuffed in the bag like the food had been. He was not keen on his brother’s idea, and shook his head. “Nyeh.”

“Pap, come on,” Sans urged pleadingly. Then he flashed a winning grin. “It will be like riding on my back. It will be fun!”

Wary of being stuffed in a bag yet enticed by the idea of going for a ride, Papyrus slowly approached his brother, a dubious expression painted on his tiny face. Sans flattened the bag as best he could against the floor and opened the mouth wide. Papyrus put his little hands on Sans’ shoulders as he stepped in the bag one foot at a time, then sat on the bottom of the bag. Sans pulled up the sides, tugging here and there, and pulled the straps until Papyrus was just a head poking out of the haversack.

Sans threw his arms in the air in exaggerated excitement. “That looks so cool! You’re going to have a great ride in there!”

Papyrus’ face split into a grin and he giggled. The bag fit him snugly enough that Sans was satisfied this would be the safest way—as long as Papyrus didn’t squirm and make Sans lose his balance.

Sans loosened the straps and freed his brother. “Ok, we’ll do that. I just need to figure out a few things, and we’ll take that ride, ok?”

Papyrus nodded.

“You play with your bones while I do that.”

The little skeleton happily obliged and returned over to his tiny white bones.

Sans sighed deeply, dreading his next experiment. He had been afraid to try to stand as the last few times were not successful and ended with a lot of pain. But they weren’t going anywhere if he was stuck sitting forever, so he pushed himself off the ground and slowly rose to his feet. He buckled at first, his legs shaking horribly, but at least he was not falling over. He leaned against the stone formation to steady himself, caught his breath, then took a few careful steps forward, prepared to fall. He wobbled a bit but was able to get to the side wall of the cave. He sighed gratefully—a good night’s rest had made all the difference.

He stretched his lower back and legs out, his joints popping and cracking, then he slowly walked over to the hole. He held onto the white bones that he had used to fence the rim and looked down into the depths. Nothing but a black void awaited them. He groaned softly but knew there was no other way to go. How to get down, however, was the question. They had no ropes, no ladders, and the walls of the hole were far too sheer to climb down. He leaned his forehead against the bones as he struggled to see how in the world they could get down the hole. His eyes focused on to the white bones in front of his eyes, and an idea formed in his mind.

Before leaving, Sans slowly searched the cave for some sharp rocks to use for cutting and a couple flat stones to crack the nuts with. He wanted to be as prepared as possible, having barely anything other than food with them. After finding a few suitable stone “tools,” he put them in the haversack pocket with the vines and leaves. Satisfied, he realized they were all set to move on.

But not yet.

There was one last thing Sans wanted to do before leaving the area they’d been staying in. He slowly walked towards the cave entrance, still blocked by the iridescent glass-like sheet wall. Sans put his hands up on the opening, steadying himself, and pressed his face against the barrier.

The valley was bright with morning daylight. A breeze fluttered multicolored leaves over the grass and down the hillside. Squirrels, rabbits, and birds went about their daily routines, hopping and flitting to and fro.

One would never have known that incredible tragedy had ravaged the same valley a day earlier.

Sans stared at the place he had seen his mother fall. He knew exactly where she had been, as the moment was forever etched in his memory. Tears fell from the young skeleton’s eyes as the scene played out in his mind painfully.

Papyrus, hearing his brother’s quiet sniffling, ambled over slowly and silently, until he reached his brother’s side. He patted the barrier with his tiny hands, as if trying to open it and leave the way they had come. He pressed his little skull against it, turning his head left and right, desperately seeking something.

He whimpered softly. “Mama...?”

Hearing his brother call for their mother was too much for Sans. He collapsed on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Papyrus looked from Sans to the valley, then hugged his weeping brother, his own tears welling up in his eyes.

Sans embraced his little brother tightly. “M-Mommy’s gone, Pap...,” he choked out. “Mommy’s gone....”

Although the little skeleton was too young to fully understand, he knew enough to grasp what his brother meant. He buried his face in his brother’s shoulder and cried loudly, his tears mixing with those of his brother’s. The two brothers wept in each other’s arms as they mourned the loss of their brave, loving mother.

The final preparations had been made and the plan had been devised. Despite the hesitation to go into the gaping hole, Sans knew they had to leave the cave and find their father.

Papyrus was sitting back into the haversack with his head poking out, ready for his ride, his tiny white bones packed comfortably in with him. Sans checked, rechecked, and triple-checked the straps of the bag, making sure Papyrus could not free himself and escape while they were descending. Sans carefully and awkwardly shouldered the bag while sitting on the floor, then struggled to stand, grunting with exertion. He steadied himself on the stone formation and slowly stood up straight. He looked over his shoulder, just barely seeing the head of his brother behind his own as Papyrus peeked over his shoulder.

“You ok back there?”

He heard the sound of the tiny bones rattling in the bag as Papyrus shifted.

“Nyeh...,” he answered softly. Sans could sense a little fear and sadness lingering in his voice.

“It’s ok, Pap,” Sans said soothingly. “You’ll be safe in there, and we’ll be out of here soon. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”

Tiny bones rustled as Sans felt Papyrus’ head rest on the back of his.

Sans tested the weight of the haversack, made sure he could balance enough, and felt ready for the descent. “Here we go, Pap.”

Sans walked over to the hole and raised his left hand. The white bone fence disappeared back into the floor. Sans gulped nervously as the gaping hole now loomed before them dangerously. He closed his eyes and sighed, concentrating on his idea and swallowing down the fear of falling into the void.

His eyes snapped open wide then narrowed, and he raised his left hand once again. Long, thick white bones shot out from the sides of the hole, creating a spiraling ramp-like pathway around the walls leading downward.

Sans sat on the edge of the hole and carefully scooted onto the bones. Then he clasped his hands together and created a glowing blue bone to give them light. He slid it in between two of the white bones so that it hung down, the knobby epiphysis keeping it from falling through like a nailhead. He looked down, half expecting the light to reveal the bottom of the hole. It did not.

After taking a deep breath, he carefully gripped the white bone he was sitting on and slid his rear forward to land onto the next bone. He then gripped that bone and repeated the slow process.

It reminded him of when he and his brother would slide down the stairs on their bottoms, much to their parents’ chagrin. The difference between then and now was that the bones were nowhere near as steep as actual stairs, and the stairway didn’t have a bottomless pit under the steps.

His body shook as he looked down between the gaps in the bones and saw nothingness. He told himself repeatedly that as long has he stayed seated and scooting, he didn’t have to worry about his legs buckling or his feet slipping on the smooth bones. The bones stretched out long enough that he was in no danger of slipping off the side of the bone spiral “staircase.” None of this helped the butterflies in his stomach or the trembling in his bones.

Bone by bone, Sans descended slowly down the hole, inching his way along in the blue-white light, his brother napping on his back. The only way forward for the two little skeletons was down.


	5. Chapter 5

The sounds of rhythmic thumping, low grunting, and heavy breathing reverberated against the walls of the hole. Sans had no idea how long he had been sliding like this, but his body was starting to tire. His rear was sore, as were his arms and legs from pushing and pulling his weight from bone to bone. He wanted to rest, but he was afraid that if he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to continue. He just wanted to get to the bottom, but no matter how many bones he descended, the black void beneath him remained.

Along the way he had created multiple blue bones to light the pit, and as he looked up to check his progress, he noticed they looked like blue falling stars in the night sky. A constant upward wind grew more breezy the further down he proceeded. He hoped it wouldn’t get strong enough to blow him off the bone ramp.

The dim lighting, echoing sounds, and claustrophobic isolation made Sans uneasy. He thought he heard noises coming from the opening of the hole above them—was it his imagination or were the humans coming after them? To be safe, he raised his left hand upwards and the white and blue bones disappeared above him. He didn’t need anything rushing down behind him, nor did he want the light or bones to leave a trace of their escape.

As he neared the end of the white bone spiral, he pointed his left hand downward and added more. He had needed to do this several times so far, and, considering he had a rough idea of his magical reach, it gave him a sort of benchmark of the distance they had traveled. They hadn’t progressed as far as he would have liked.

Every bone in his body hurt. His breathing was becoming more ragged, and his pace was slowing. He was becoming weaker by the minute and didn’t know how much longer he could keep going.

His arms buckled as he was pushing himself to the next bone, and the jolt roused the sleeping Papyrus on his back. Sans felt his brother wriggling inside the bag.

“Easy there, Pap,” he wheezed.

Papyrus fidgeted harder in the haversack, grunting with frustration. “Nyeh! _Nyeh!_ ”

“No, Pap!” Sans begged. “Please calm down!”

The struggling skeleton on his back rocked Sans side to side. He fought to keep his balance, but his weakness got the best of him. He fell on his side, his skull cracking hard against the wall, and he sharply cried out in pain. He collapsed on his side, clutching his skull and gritting his teeth, as Papyrus and the rest of the weight fell with him. A dull thwack behind him and the resulting cries from his brother told Sans that Papyrus had banged his head against one of the bones. He tried to pull himself up, but the weight of the bag and his weakened state refused. Tears of frustration and exhaustion welled up in his eyes.

Barely able to move and injured, Sans frantically tried to think. He gripped the bone under him to push himself up, and that’s when it hit him. He pointed his left hand downward, and the spiral bone “staircase” ahead of them disappeared back into the walls. New thick white bones shot out straight from the walls from one side and piercing the other. Sans had created a level surface just under them two layers of bones thick, temporarily closing off the hole.

Now that there was no danger of falling into the depths, Sans weakly unshouldered the bag. It rolled away from him and he struggled to get over to it to help his brother, who was crying uncontrollably.

“Hang on, Pap...,” he grunted as he undid the straps as he lay weakly on his side, his brother’s constant writhing making it difficult.

Soon the haversack was loose enough for Papyrus, and he impatiently burst out of the bag, spilling several of the tiny bones onto the bone “floor.” Papyrus clambered over Sans to get as far away from him and the haversack as possible, his quick, broken sobs echoing against the walls.

Knowing that Papyrus was now safe from the hole, Sans allowed him to run around freely. Sans rubbed his sore skull and checked his HP.

4 HP/1 HP.

He’d lost 6 between hitting his head and exerting himself down the hole. He rummaged in the food pockets and pulled out a button mushroom. He shoved it in his mouth and barely tasted it as he rushed to eat it. After he swallowed it down, he noticed the sharp pain in his head subsiding. He checked his HP but the reading was the same—4 HP/1 HP.

“Oh no...,” he breathed sadly. “Looks like food doesn’t increase extra HP above the max....”

He rolled onto his back despairingly and stared up at the opening, hanging over him like a huge moon. He was discouraged at the loss of HP but extremely grateful that the sleep from the night before had given him that extra 9 HP.

His eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat, and his body started trembling as he realized that had he not had his HP boosted, he would have died there, leaving Papyrus alone, unprotected until he rolled off into the nothingness. Sans shut his eyes tight and covered his face with his hands, sobbing in fear at the thought. He had to be more careful.

He remembered that Papyrus had also bumped his head in the fall. He lifted himself up onto his forearms, wiping his eyes. Papyrus was on the opposite side, brooding. He had his back to Sans and entertained himself with a few tiny white bones that had gotten caught in his clothes.

“Hey, Pap,” Sans called. “I’ve got to check your head.”

Papyrus whipped his head around and shot him a nasty glare, then turned back to continue playing.

Sans called out, sadly. “Pap, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I fell over. It was an accident. I’m sorry. _Please_ let me check you out.”

Papyrus, refusing to turn around, merely huffed. “Nyeh.”

Sans started to get irritated. “You know, it _wasn’t_ my fault. _You’re_ the one who started freaking out and made me lose my balance.”

At this, Papyrus jumped up and whirled himself around, his face screwed up in anger. He shouted in babble-speak something Sans could only assume was a retort. He pointed furiously at his tiny head to show where Sans had caused him to get hurt, and whipped one of the tiny bones at his brother in his rage. The bone fell far short of Sans from across the gap, and they both watched it clatter noisily on the bone-floor. Papyrus’ lip quivered, then he plopped down on his rear, his anger melting off his face as he dissolved into tears. He started crying, burying his face in his tiny arms.

Sans’ heart broke. He tried to stand up, but his legs buckled and he fell with a painful crash.

 _No, not this again!_ He thought to himself angrily.

He lifted himself on his elbows and looked over at the wailing Papyrus, with his raised arms over eyes. He tried to stand again, but couldn’t lift himself further than his hands and knees. So he gritted his teeth and started crawling in agony towards his brother.

When Sans reached him, fully exhausted and bursting with pain, he put a trembling hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Pap... _hehh, hehh..._ don’t cry...,” he pleaded through ragged breaths.

Papyrus—his face still buried in his raised arms—blindly swiped his arm at Sans in fury, striking him square in the jaw. The force knocked the terribly weakened skeleton down onto his side. Papyrus, lowering his arms, saw that Sans wasn’t moving and realized that he had seriously hurt his brother.

“Sas...,” he gasped, standing up. He approached cautiously. “...Sas...?”

Sans lay motionless, eyes shut, his breathing shallow. Papyrus shook him gently. “Sas...?” But there was no response.

Papyrus shook more urgently. “Sas! _Sas!_ ”

Still nothing.

The little skeleton whimpered fearfully and ran as fast as he could to the haversack. He stuck his tiny hand in the pocket and pulled out a mushroom, then ran back to his brother. Papyrus pushed the mushroom against Sans’ mouth in an effort to get him to eat.

“Sas...,” his voice quivered as he pressed it against Sans’ face repeatedly in a panic.

Sans moaned as he came to, shutting his eyes tight in pain.

“Sas! Sas!” Papyrus dropped the mushroom and hugged his brother’s head gratefully.

“...Ngh.... ow.... careful, Pap...,” Sans whispered weakly. He slowly opened his eyes and saw that Papyrus was in tears.

His little brother picked up the mushroom and tried to shove it in his mouth. Sans took it and broke it in half. He ate one half to help the horrendous throbbing in his jaw. He put his hand on his chest and checked his HP.

2 HP/ 1 HP.

He shuddered. If his brother had been just a _touch_ stronger, he would have killed him. He looked into the worried face of his brother and managed a feeble, false grin. He gently put his hand on Papyrus’ chest and checked his HP to see how much damage he received from bumping his head earlier. The streaks of tears on the little one’s face lit up in the white glow of his soul.

96 HP/100 HP.

Sans put the other half of the mushroom in front of Papyrus’ mouth. His little brother turned his face away and pushed Sans’ hand towards his own face.

“No, I already had some...,” he answered, moving his hand back. “This one’s for you, to heal your hurt skull.”

Papyrus tried to turn away again, then reluctantly accepted the mushroom, chewing it slowly.

“Feel better...?”

His brother nodded sadly, then crouched down to Sans and hugged him gently.

Sans returned the hug as best he could from where he lay, shutting his eyes and nuzzling into Papyrus’ shoulder. “I’m sorry, too....”

Sans fell back, too weak to hold himself up any longer. Papyrus squeaked in dismay, but Sans tried to calm him down.

“...I-it’s ok, Pap.... I...I just really need to...sleep....”

Without hesitation, Papyrus ran over to the haversack and dragged it slowly over to his brother, as he had done before. He grunted as he pulled it around to the back of San’s head.

Sans rolled onto his back with an agonizing grunt, his head resting on the haversack comfortably. “Thanks, Pap....”

He cringed in pain and Papyrus whimpered worriedly.

“I-I’m ok,” Sans grinned falsely. “I-I just...need sleep right now.... You play for a bit...ok?”

Papyrus plunked himself right next to Sans’ head and started rubbing his brother’s skull gently. Sans smiled genuinely and drifted off to sleep under the tender care of his brother.

Sans woke up slowly, noticing the stiffness in his back from laying on the rigid bone floor. He also felt the weight of something on his side. He opened his eyes slightly and saw Papyrus’ sleeping face. His brother had leaned against him, across his right arm, using his chest as a pillow. His tiny little fist was curled up next to his face and Sans could feel his other arm on his stomach. His head rose and fell with each breath Sans took.

Sans smiled and gently patted Papyrus’ head with his free hand. Then he checked his HP, hoping the white glow of his soul didn’t wake his brother.

10 HP/1 HP.

 _Great, back to 10...._ Sans sighed deeply. Was this now how he would live his life? Constantly at the point of near-death? Almost dusting when his own brother hits him accidentally?

The incident at the door _had_ to have done something to his soul. How could be revert back to his old maximum HP of 250? _Would_ he ever get to his old maximum?

Questions flooded the young skeleton’s mind but no answers came. All he could do was work with what he had been coming to understand.

Food, while normally restoring HP that fell under the max HP, didn’t restore extra HP. So while food healed his injuries and reduced pain, it did nothing to affect his HP unless it was under 1.

Sleep, however, _did_ affect his HP by increasing it. How that worked he wasn’t entirely sure of, just as long as it _did_ work. He didn’t seem to gain HP during the times he had passed out, only when he slept to rest. What he didn’t know was if his HP would increase even more if he didn’t lose any the day before, or if he could sleep multiple times a day and gain more. What if he slept for a few minutes, woke up, slept a few minutes more—how did it all work?

Sans heaved another great sigh. He was getting tired just thinking about his new condition. Papyrus stirred, rubbing his mouth and nose with his little fist as his eyes screwed up tight.

“Hey, Pap,” Sans whispered, nudging his little brother. “Time to wake up.”

Papyrus opened his eyes slowly, then jerked his head up. He gave Sans a worrying look and whimpered softly.

“Yeah, I’m feeling much better,” Sans answered, grinning. “Sleep was just what I needed.”

Papyrus hugged his brother apologetically. Sans returned the hug from his laying position. “I forgive you. I know you didn’t mean to.”

Sans sat up slowly, pulling Papyrus onto his lap to look him in the face. “Listen, Pap.... Something bad happened in that cave that made—” He chose his words carefully. “—made it easier for me to get really hurt. Getting hurt, even a little bit, can be really, _really_ bad for me now. So we’ve got to be careful, ok?”

Papyrus nodded sadly, his lower lip trembling.

“You didn’t know, Pap,” Sans said, hugging his brother gently. “I know it was an accident.” He pulled his brother back to face him. “But I’ve got to be very careful about accidents from now on, all right?”

Papyrus nodded again.

“Ok, let’s get ready to go,” Sans said, rubbing the top of his brother’s head playfully.

Papyrus rolled off his brother so that he could stand up. Sans unsteadily rose but was able to stand. He cracked his joints and bones in a long stretch, then picked up the haversack.

“I think we’d better come up with a better idea, huh?” he said, and Papyrus looked away ashamedly.

Sans laughed softly. “It’s ok, my butt was getting so bruised going down those bones, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit for a month!” He comically rubbed his rear, which made Papyrus giggle.

Sans untied the vines that held his bundled up jacket and put it in the main pocket, returning the vines to the pocket with the others. Papyrus set about collecting his tiny white bones and putting them in the haversack. Once the last bone had been returned, Sans closed the bag and shouldered it. The weight was far more manageable.

“Ok,” Sans thought out loud. “So how _do_ we get down now?

He paced the floor several times, his brother following him in his wake. He considered and discarded idea after idea. Finally, he settled on a solution, and felt comfortable to proceed.

“Now, Pap,” Sans said seriously. “I need you to hold my hand the whole time, ok? What we’re doing is dangerous and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Papyrus nodded solemnly and stuck out his tiny hand. Sans took it and gave it a squeeze.

“Ok, let’s go over here.”

Hand in hand, the two brothers went to stand by the hole’s wall. Sans let go of Papyrus’ hand for a moment to create a glowing blue bone and gave it to Papyrus to hold. Then, taking his brother’s hand back, Sans raised his left hand towards the above bones and made them return into the walls. The blue bones over their heads disappeared, leaving the only light source in Papyrus’ hand.

Sans gripped his brother’s hand tighter as he shut his eyes and concentrated. He snapped his eyes open, narrowed them in focus, and held out his left hand towards the floor. Below them was the sound of white bones shooting out from the walls, and Papyrus watched them through the gaps in the bone floor they stood on. Sans shifted his hand to the wall near them and a few white bones shot out right on top of the floor, creating a small platform.

Sans led Papyrus by the hand over to the platform and stood upon it. He hesitated a moment just to make sure Papyrus was staying by his side safely, then he lifted his left hand again.

The double-layered floor returned to the walls, revealing a set of bone stairs underneath, descending from the platform they were standing on. There were no gaps to fall through as the bone layers were spaced just a few inches below the next and spanned the width of the hole. In case he made any mistakes and missed a spot, he kept hold of Papyrus’ hand.

Sans left arm fell to his side and he staggered a bit, leaning on the wall to steady himself. Papyrus looked up at him concernedly.

“N-nyeh?”

Sans was out of breath and shaky. “I-I’m ok,” he said, giving Papyrus’ hand a reassuring squeeze. “That just... t-took a lot out of me.... I don’t usually make that many at once....”

After a moment, he recovered enough to move on. “Let’s go, Pap.”

The two carefully descended the bone stairs. The smoothness of the bones made it slippery, but they were able to walk down with a fair bit of ease. It was certainly easier than sliding down the spiral ramp, even though the ramp took a fraction of the energy to create. They reached the end in good time, and Sans created another set under their landing before removing the previous staircase. Despite the toll it was taking on Sans, they were descending the hole quite rapidly at this pace.

After creating a fifth set of stairs, Sans slumped over, sliding against the wall onto his knees weakly. Papyrus rushed to his side, his face covered in concern. “Sas...?”

Sans was breathing heavily and fighting to keep his eyes open. “I, _hehh, hehh_ , just need a moment....”

He wasn’t used to expending this much magic, even when he had his 250 HP maximum. He was getting increasingly frustrated with his failing body and was tired of being so _tired_. He shrugged off the haversack unceremoniously and flopped it on the bony platform. He sat up against the wall, his head leaning against the stony surface as his chest heaved. He checked his HP, which was fortunately still at 10—the exertion didn’t affect his health in that regard.

He looked at his worried brother through half-lidded eyes. “I-I’m so sorry, _hehh, hehh¸_ it’s taking m-me so long, _hehh, hehh,_ to do this, Pap....”

Papyrus gave his brother an encouraging hug, then went to the haversack and rummaged in the pocket. He pulled out a carrot and offered it to Sans.

Sans put his hand up and shook his head. ‘N-no, Pap,” he said to the crestfallen skeleton. “That won’t help.” Sans knew his terrible HP would be unaffected by the food and didn’t want to waste their precious resources. It wouldn’t help his magic like—

“Hey, Pap,” he said suddenly. “Can you get me a piece of dried fruit? I need something sweet.”

Papyrus brightened up and dropped the carrot, turning to the bag. He thrust his tiny arm deep into the side pocket. His hand emerged with a dried cherry, and triumphantly handed it to his brother.

Sans popped it gratefully into his mouth. As he chewed the sweet, candy-like fruit, he felt a little less tired and could sense his magic increase in his soul. Sugary-sweet foods always seemed to help boost his magic, so he was incredibly thankful that he had had the sense to pack dried fruits and berries.

His eyes were still heavy, but they still had far to go. His mind urged him to move, but his body didn’t respond, so he just sat there resting, watching Papyrus explore the area—safe from falling with the bone steps filling the hole. He grinned, glad that his brother was occupied while he got his second wind. His eyes drooped and he blinked a few times to keep them open. Soon they would reach the bottom, he just had to get going. His breathing slowed, then his heavy lids refused to open any more as he slowly nodded off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five chapters! Thank you so much for reading this far. I really hope you are enjoying this story. There's a ton more to come! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Sans opened his eyes slowly, then jerked awake, completely caught off guard by his nap. He was still seated up against the wall, his neck and lower back stiff. It was so dark he had to blink his eyes a few times to make sure they were open. He spotted the distant blue-white light up above him on the staircase. Papyrus was hopping up and down the steps, still clutching the blue bone. Sans sighed in relief, happy that his little brother was amusing himself.

 _I can’t believe I just fell asleep like that...._ He berated himself as he stretched out his arms above his head, then created another blue bone to give himself light.

He sat there for a moment, trying wake up fully, when curiosity hit him. He checked his HP.

20 HP/1 HP.

Sans gasped in shock, then began to laugh with relief. He _could_ add to his extra HP with more sleep. This made things much easier—sleep could get him further and further from the brink of death.

He stood up, noticing that he was not as weak as before. Sans grinned with joy as a glimmer of hope sparked within him.

Empowered by these revelations, he was eager to continue down the hole. He looked up at his brother.

“Ready to go, Pap?” he called.

Papyrus threw his hands up in the air gleefully, waving the bone. “Nyeh!” He bounded down the stairs.

As his brother made his way over, Sans pulled up the haversack. He pulled out some dried fruit and shoved it in his pants pocket. He shouldered the bag—wedging the blue bone between the haversack and his back like a sheathed weapon—just as Papyrus ran up to him.

Sans grinned at his brother and put out his hand, which Papyrus took eagerly. Then he raised his left hand and the higher set of bone stairs disappeared back into the wall, revealing the next set before them. They went down the stairs swiftly, Sans needing to hold himself back from running with his new-found energy.

Three sets of stairs had been created and descended when Sans noticed the updraft of wind increasing in force. He looked over at Papyrus and saw that his eyes were shut partially because of the breeze.

“Pap, we must be getting close to the bottom,” Sans declared excitedly.

Papyrus shut his eyes in a wide grin, bouncing up and down. “Nyeh!”

When they reached the bottom, Sans paused before creating the next set. He stared through the gaps in the bones down the hole, straining his eyes.

“Is that...?” Sans whispered incredulously.

He made the blue bone on his back and the one in Papyrus’ hand disappear. The hole was now completely dark, except for an extremely dim glow coming from below them, just barely visible.

“There’s light down there!” he gasped, squeezing Papyrus’ hand excitedly. “We’re almost at the bottom!”

He created another blue bone and handed it to Papyrus, who was glad for light again. Sans quickly created another set of stairs, removing the previous set. He nearly jumped down the stairs with Papyrus in tow, eager to get to the light source.

After two more sets, he noticed something odd when was creating the third. He heard the sound of far less bones rushing under them, and could tell that he hadn’t expended as much magic as he had for the previous ones. As soon as he removed the set above, he understood why. The next set of stairs was cut short, the stone wall of the hole having tapered off, revealing an opening.

Sans gripped Papyrus’ hand tight—there were now too many gaps to fall through—and they carefully went down the stairs. He could not see any sort of flooring through the gaps in the bones, so he wasn’t sure how far down the bottom was. As they crept down the last few steps, the blue-white light revealed that the hole emptied into a large cavern. Sans knelt on the last step, putting his arm around Papyrus to keep him close, and looked out in awe.

The cavern was enormous. Stalactites and stalagmites jutted from the ceiling and floor like the teeth of a huge creature. They were just level with the top of the cavern, the strong breeze making it hard to keep their eyes open. The area was dimly lit with a pale, yellow glow, and, from where he knelt, the source of light was coming from one side of the cavern far off.

Sans created a blue bone and dropped it over the side of the step. He and Papyrus watched the blue-white light as it fell, landing with an echoing clatter. Sans couldn’t help but grin.

“That’s the bottom, Pap,” he breathed excitedly. “Stay close to me. We’re still really high up.”

The little skeleton nodded solemnly, hugging Sans tightly.

Sans stood back up and thought—hard—for a moment. They had reached the end of the hole, so he could no longer create stairs. They were too high up for his magic to reach the bottom, so he couldn’t raise bones from there. The stalactites would be too weak and brittle to form bones out of.

He ran his hand over his skull, utterly at a loss as to how they would get to the cavern floor. He looked around frantically, searching for a solution, frustrated anxiety starting to creep into his soul.

“No, no...,” he uttered. “Not to be this close. _Not this close....”_

After several moments of racking his brain, he decided to try something. He put up his left hand and several white bones shot from the ceiling just a few feet in front of them. The bones came towards them at a slight angle, just barely missing the platform as they sped under them. They created a half-pipe, chute-like structure, extending downwards until they stopped at the end of Sans’ reach. Sans popped a dried apple into his mouth as he looked to see how far the bones had gone. It was hard to tell in the darkness, so he created a blue bone. Reaching out over the edge of the bone platform—holding Papyrus behind him to keep him away and safe—he dropped the blue bone onto the chute. They watched as it tumbled down slowly, until it dropped off the end. Watching the glowing bone drop until it hit the ground, he could tell that the chute extended down more than half the height of the cavern. However, the end was too high for them to merely fall off of, and Sans was not willing to lose any HP if he could help it.

 _If I can just...._ He thought to himself as he mapped out an extremely risky plan.

He sighed deeply. It was incredibly dangerous, but they had no choice, and he saw no other option. Making sure that the pack was sealed, he took the blue bone Papyrus was holding and stuck it in the bag so that it poked out. He slid the bag over the edge onto the chute, where it wedged in the gap between the chute and the edge of the step. Sans picked up Papyrus, gripped the edge of the chute with his free hand, and climbed in behind the haversack. He sat back, embracing Papyrus firmly against his chest with both arms, and gulped fearfully.

“Pap, close your eyes, hold on, and _do not let go_.”

Sans shut his own eyes, tried to slow his rapid breathing, and concentrated. He reached in his pocket and grabbed a dried cherry and ate it quickly. Then his eyes opened, narrowed, and he raised his left hand slightly, not daring to move his arm off Papyrus. All remaining bones in the hole disappeared, and the haversack and the two skeletons slid down the chute.

The angle was gradual enough that they never gained much speed, as Sans had planned for, but sliding down at this height with nothing but a few bones under them was terrifying. He held his left hand out as they neared the mid-point of the chute’s length, waiting for his magical reach to respond. Once he was in range, white bones shot from the cavern floor at the same slight angle, but in reverse, and extended higher than the end of the chute they were on. He made the floor chute wider so that it caught them easily when they landed on it, and the gap between the chutes was a couple feet apart.

As they reached the end, Sans fiercely kicked the bag forward and held Papyrus tighter, bracing for the tumble. The bag fell onto the second chute and continued on down. As soon as the bag cleared the first chute, Sans lay back and rolled himself on his stomach. Papyrus cried out with his brother’s weight crushing him, but only for a moment, as Sans had dangled his legs off the edge and pushed himself onto the second chute. He landed hard on his back with a grunt, absorbing the impact for Papyrus, and they, too, continued on down. Sans lifted his left hand upwards and the first chute above them disappeared.

At long last, they were at the bottom. Sans lay still for a second, breathing heavily as he stared up at the ceiling, his body still tense from the ordeal. Papyrus struggled to get up, and Sans released him, then sat up in the chute. Sans started laughing in relief, ecstatic that they were finally on solid ground again.

“We did it, Pap!” he exclaimed as he popped a dried apricot in his mouth.

Papyrus did not seem to share his joy. The little skeleton looked out into the vast cavern and up at the chute, trembling with fear.

Sans gave him an encouraging hug. “Hey, it’s ok, it’s over. We’re safe now.”

His voice echoed through the cavern and Papyrus shrank, terrified. Sans hugged him tighter, nuzzling into him.

“I know it’s scary here, but we’ll be ok. I’m right here with you.”

Sans gave him one last squeeze and stood up. He made the second chute disappear, as well as the blue bones he had dropped down earlier, leaving just the one in the haversack.

Papyrus’ lower lip quivered with fear. Sans looked down at his brother sadly, then gazed out into the open cavern, thinking. He sat down on the rocky dirt floor and pat his legs invitingly. Papyrus curled up on Sans’ lap, close to tears.

“Pap, we’re going to be ok,” Sans soothed, his voice low and rubbing his brother’s back. “I don’t know what’s out there, but, hey! We just got down this huge, scary hole!”

Papyrus nodded timidly.

Sans dropped his tone even lower. “But I don’t know if there’s any holes to fall in, or animals out there, or falling rocks. So...I think it might be a really good idea for you to ride in the bag again on my back.”

The little skeleton thought this over. As much as he didn’t like being stuffed in the bag, he liked the scary cavern even less. He looked up into his brother’s eyes sadly and nodded.

“Good,” Sans grinned, rubbing the top of his little brother’s skull playfully. “This time it will be easier because I won’t be bumping down bones on my butt!”

At this, Papyrus couldn’t help but giggle softly.

An idea came to Sans. “What I think we should do is have a picnic first, right here.”

The little skeleton perked up, his nod much less fearful. “Nyeh!” Then he clambered off his brother’s lap.

Sans grabbed the haversack and pulled out a hunk of cheese, bread, a couple button mushrooms, and the blue bone, then flipped the haversack over so that the flat back served as a make-shift table. He leaned the blue bone up against the bag to give them light while they ate. Papyrus sat down opposite his brother as he watched him break apart the food. Sans handed him a small cheese and mushroom sandwich, which he took gratefully. Sans laughed softly as he watched Papyrus eat voraciously, then took a bite of his own sandwich.

After the impromptu picnic, Sans rearranged the pack so that Papyrus had more room. He unwrapped his jacket and put more food from the side pockets and all the tiny bones from the main pocket into it before bundling it back up with the vines. He tied it to the underside of the haversack this time, since he didn’t need to scoot around on his rear. Sans helped Papyrus step into the bag and strapped him up gently.

“There, how’s that?” Sans asked hopefully.

Papyrus grinned. He had much more room, feeling far less cramped without the tiny bones poking and prodding him.

Relieved, Sans rubbed the top of his head again, then sat down to shoulder the haversack. He grabbed the blue bone from the ground and stood up carefully. He adjusted the weight, then looked back over his shoulder.

“Still ok?”

Papyrus answered him cheerfully. “Nyeh!”

“Ok,” Sans sighed, looking out into the giant cavern. “Off we go.”

Holding the blue bone up like a torch, Sans started off in the direction of the light. It was near impossible to walk a straight line with all the stalagmites and stone formations jutting out everywhere. Sans took comfort, however, in the fact that he felt far less exposed, and if any animals came after them, hiding would be easy.

Not that there _were_ any animals around. The cavern was eerily quiet, with only the ghostly sounds of the wind blowing through the stalactites up above and the echoes of his footsteps and breathing bouncing back at him. He strained his hearing for any sign of movement as he progressed steadily through the cavern.

A snuffling snore behind his head told him that Papyrus had fallen asleep in the haversack. Sans smiled to himself. He knew that if Papyrus ate a meal, he would nod off, which is why he suggested the “picnic” before setting off. It made exploring the spooky cavern much easier having the little one fast asleep.

The light steadily got brighter the further he progressed, and soon distant sounds started reaching his ears. Were those voices?

He froze as a thought crossed his mind—what if there were humans in the mountain? Sans’ pace slowed to a cautious tip-toe. He made the blue bone disappear so he wouldn’t betray their location. Fortunately, the cavern was lit enough for him to make his way around.

He was soon close enough to know that he was, indeed, hearing voices. A lot of them. There were other noises he couldn’t identify, but whatever the sounds were, he certainly hoped that they were masking any sounds he was making.

He came across a tall, sloped stone formation. It looked safe enough for him to climb up without being seen, so he slowly scaled it. When we poked his head over carefully, relief washed over him.

Monsters. Hundreds upon hundreds of monsters. All crowded together, some bustling from here to there, others standing around. Some carrying large items, others sitting down, relaxing. There were tents lined up along the walls on either side.

These were the monsters his mother had spoken of, who had sought refuge in the mountain. Possibly the very monsters he saw fighting humans in the valley.

Sans laughed in relief—his father might be in that crowd somewhere. He turned, slid off the stone, and nearly ran around the obstacles to get to them. He rounded a few stalagmites and saw boxes, barrels, and tables lined up with several monsters organizing them.

“Bring those loaves over to that group there, they’re setting up the cooking team.”

“Hey, where do you want these baskets?”

“Can you put them in that red tent? That’s where we’re storing the medical supplies.”

Sans slowly approached one of the monsters.

“E-excuse me,” he said, shyly. “I’m looking for my Daddy....”

The green, snakelike monster poked his head up, wiping his brow with his tail. “Ah, a wee kid, eh? Ye’ll wanna head over to that purple tent yonder.” He pointed with his tail. “They’ll help ye out.”

Sans nodded politely in thanks and started to head over. But the flow of working monsters was too thick to wade through. He noticed that there was a pathway behind the tents that he could walk through, so he made his way against the wall. He was nearing the purple tent when he heard voices.

“We found these kids and were told to bring them to you, Queen Toriel. They’ve all lost their parents....”

“You poor, sweet things.... Please take the older children to Dinksens. She’s at the far end with her group setting up their temporary orphanage. Take the babies and toddlers to Garcin just over there. She’s with her team creating a nursery for them.”

Sans froze, his breath trapped in his throat. _Th-they’re splitting us up...?!_

He frantically looked around, making sure no one saw him, then sprinted back the way he had come along the wall, avoiding being seen while fleeing the encampment.

“Queen Toriel, what about this older girl with her baby brother?”

“Oh my, you darling child. Taking care of your dear baby brother during all this. Please take them to Drenet, in the center. He’s got a special team helping the children of mixed ages in the same family.”

Sans hid behind a stone formation, panting hard. He strained his ears to hear if anyone had followed him. He could still hear the mass of monsters nearby. Tears welled up in his eyes.

_If they find us...they’ll split us apart...._

He shut his eyes tight, tears flowing.

 _I’ve lost Mommy, I’ve lost Daddy, I’m_ not _losing Papyrus, too!_

When he caught his breath, he opened his tear-filled eyes and darted off, weaving around the stalagmites. As he ran, he started to panic, having no idea what direction to go. Not wanting to head back towards the hole, he started to head towards the side wall, hoping to find a way around the encampment. His mind was racing.

 _We’ve got to get far away from here. But where am I going to go?! If those monsters came from the other side of the mountain, they’ll probably fill this cavern. We can’t stay here. There_ has _to be another tunnel or cave or something!_

He kept glancing over his shoulder, terrified of getting grabbed at any moment. As he zig-zagged, Papyrus slowly woke and murmured softly.

“Pap, please,” Sans pleaded shakily, his pace not slowing. “Please don’t cry. We need to be really quiet. It’s really, _really_ important that we be really quiet right now. _Please_ , Pap.”

Papyrus, hearing the panic in his brother’s voice, understood that something scary was happening and whimpered softly, but remained still.

Sans reached the wall and frantically searched for a way out, his eyes darting. He looked up and saw a small opening. It was high up, but it was better than nothing. He raised his left hand and several bones shot out the wall creating a set of steps leading to the opening. Sans scrambled up quickly but carefully. As soon as he was inside the opening, he made the bones disappear.

He turned to see that he was in a tunnel, large enough for him to stand in. He created a blue bone and went in a few feet further until he was sure he couldn’t be seen from the cavern. Then he stopped, exhausted and trembling, leaning against the wall as he fought for breath. His shoulders started to shake, then he started sobbing. Slumping down the wall to sit, the blue bone slipping from his hand, he unshouldered the haversack—with Papyrus watching helplessly in it—and leaned it up against the wall. Then Sans buried his face in his hands and wept bitterly.

It wasn’t fair. He had gotten so close to getting help for him and his brother, had found where their father might possibly be, only to find that if they were caught, they would be separated. All they had in the world right now was each other. If their father had also died in battle, they had no one else. Running away from humans was one thing. Running away from their own kind was heartbreaking. But if they ever got caught and he lost Papyrus....

The soul-wrenching pain of the thought ripped sobs from Sans’ throat.

Papyrus whimpered, tears rolling down his face as fear gripped him. “S-Sas...?”

Sans looked at his brother through tears. “Pap...they won’t let us stay together.... If they find us, they will take you from me.... We can’t get caught. We have to hide from them. We have to hide from everybody....”

Papyrus’s eyes grew wide in fear, then he melted into tears, sobbing quietly.

Sans struggled to pull himself together. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves and rubbed Papyrus’ head soothingly. His tone was resolute and firm. “I _won’t_ let them take you from me. We’ve just got to keep going before they find us. Just a little bit more, and we’ll be safe, ok? Just keep quiet.”

Papyrus nodded his head sadly, tears still spilling down from his eyes.

Sans shouldered the bag again and picked up the blue bone. He followed the tunnel, keeping his eyes peeled for other openings or caves. He sensed from the thunderous noise and direction it had turned that the tunnel ran inside the same wall he had walked against when he was looking for the purple tent. The tunnel continued in a long, straight path, and Sans saw rays of light streaming through several small holes up ahead.

When he reached the first hole, he looked through carefully. The encampment was below—confirming what he had sensed—the light coming from several fires and lighting magic. He searched desperately for his father in the sea of monsters, but could not spot him. Ages had passed when he reluctantly pulled himself away to move on.

He continued much farther down the tunnel, then looked through another window-like hole. While the area he had entered the encampment from was filled with supplies, tents, and food, this area was filled with workers, tools, and building materials. Several monsters were creating huge stone blocks with their magic, and others were carrying them over to a large stone wall they were building at the end of the cavern.

“They must be building that to keep humans out,” Sans whispered to himself. “But...if they’re building a wall, then that must mean there are no monsters on the other side.”

Sans considered what this meant. If there were no monsters past this wall, then they would be safe from being caught if they passed by the wall. But if the monsters were creating a wall, then they must be trying to keep the humans out. Did that mean that there was a horde of humans somewhere in the mountain? Sans shuddered at the thought.

“Well, the only way to know is to keep going....”

The tunnel, which had been running straight along the length of the large cavern, curved suddenly, leading away from the cavern’s end and where the wall was being built. As soon as Sans made the turn, he saw the bright light of the tunnel’s end and felt a sharp, cool breeze from the opening. As he neared the edge of the tunnel, what he and Papyrus saw made them gasp in unison.

“I-is that...snow?”


	7. Chapter 7

Wayward snowflakes made their way inside the rocky tunnel. A thin blanket of snow carpeted the edge, crunching as Sans crept towards the opening. Gripping the wall of the tunnel, he looked out.

Towards his left, the rocky exterior of the giant cavern sloped down like a small mountain of its own. The rest of the outside, as far as he could see, was a vast, snow-filled valley. Void of any trees, the landscape was flat with smatterings of large boulders and stone formations covered in snow like frosted cakes. In the distance he could see a thin strip of dark grey, slicing through the valley from beyond, snaking its way out of sight past the cavern. For a moment, Sans had thought they were outside Mt. Ebott, but as he looked up, he saw the stony, stalactite filled ceiling of the mountain high above them.

It was peacefully quiet with only the sounds of low, whooshing gusts and the pattering of snowflakes against the stony walls. The darkness of the inner-mountain valley was brightened by the miles of white snow, giving the appearance of a moonlit night. Sans breathed in deeply, the fresh, frozen air cleansing his lungs, then breathed out, watching the wisps escape his mouth like soft, white smoke. Snowflakes landed on his and Papyrus’ skulls, melting into nothingness on impact.

“It’s like winter, Pap,” Sans breathed in awe, making the blue bone in his hand disappear.

Papyrus wriggled for joy in the haversack. “Nyeh!”

Sans crept down the side of the cavern exterior, creating white bones here and there to aid him down the snowy slope. When he reached the ground, he stepped into deep snow. The squeaking crunch of snow under his foot made him grin wide. He stood there a moment, surveying the area. Deeming it safe enough, he unshouldered the haversack, undid the straps, and helped Papyrus climb out.

The little skeleton jumped up and down happily in the deep snow, then fell back onto the ground and started making a snow angel.

Sans had untied his jacket bundle from the underside of the haversack and brushed the snow off it. He untied it and emptied the food and tiny bones into the main pocket, then put the vines in the side pocket with the others. He shook his jacket out and put it on, zippering it up, as he watched his little brother playing. Then he joined him, falling onto his back next to him, creating a slightly larger snow angel. The two brothers laughed in the snow, the wintery weather healing their souls in a way food and sleep could not.

Sans was the first to get up, realizing that they had best keep going. The cavern entrance would be around the corner from them, and he didn’t want to chance any monsters working on the outside of the wall they were constructing to see them. He raised his left hand and made the white bones he had used to descend the cavern exterior disappear. He looked down at his little brother, who was just laying in the snow happily.

“Ready to explore this place?” Sans said, wiping snow from his jacket.

Papyrus jumped up, covered in snow. He wiggled most of it off, but snow that had gathered on his neck and shoulders fell down into his shirt through the collar. He shuddered, then opened the bottom of his shirt to release the trapped snow. He looked up at his older brother, his teeth chattering as he shivered.

Sans felt bad that they hadn’t grabbed his coat back at the house in the urgency to evacuate. All his brother had on him was his long-sleeved shirt, his pants, and his tiny shoes. Skeletons were able to withstand the cold much better than most monsters, but they weren’t impervious to getting chilled to the bone. Sans unzipped his jacket and put it on Papyrus. It was far too big for the little skeleton. He stood there, furrowing his brow at the bagginess, then shrugged it off onto the ground.

“Well that’s not going to work,” Sans said, retrieving his jacket.

As he shook it out and put it back on, he glanced over at the haversack. An idea dawned on him.

Papyrus stood there, shivering and shaking the snow off the inside of his shirt. Sans came up to him with the strip of red cloth that had come from their mother’s cape. Sans held out it at length, folded it in half, end to end, then wrapped it around Papyrus’ neck.

“There,” Sans said, stepping back to look at his little brother. “That should help.”

Papyrus reached up and felt the thick fabric where it had wrapped around his neck, nuzzling his chin against the folds, and watched how the ends hanging behind him danced upwards in the wind. The makeshift scarf warmed the chill away and made the little skeleton feel comfortably snug.

“What do you think?” Sans asked him.

Papyrus jumped up and down happily, waving his arms in the air high above his head. “Nyeh!”

The two skeletons walked through the snow, getting as far away from the cavern as possible. Sans constantly looked around to make sure neither monster nor human was in sight. Papyrus was having the time of his life, kicking up the snow into little clouds of powder and occasionally picking up handfuls of packed snow to munch on.

Sans was leading them towards a grouping of snow-covered boulders. He didn’t like being out in the open as they crossed the snowy floor of the massive cavern “valley.” They were walking a diagonal path away from the cavern, but without trees and not enough to hide them, Sans knew that if anyone was looking from the stone wall construction, they would spot them.

They soon reached the boulders. Sans led Papyrus around so that the boulders hid them from the cavern’s view. He walked up to the largest of the boulders and figured it would be a good place to rest. He unshouldered the haversack and propped it up against the boulder. He sat wearily, leaning back on the boulder, and watched his brother playing in the snow.

Without sun or moon, it was impossible to tell if it were day or night. It appeared this valley would always be in a constant state of “nighttime,” and Sans was grateful that the snow reflected enough light to keep them out of total darkness.

He tilted his head upward at the cavern ceiling miles and miles above his head and sighed sadly. He missed the stars. His mind drifted to the nights he would spend with his parents and little brother out on a hilltop near their home, stargazing for hours. His father had taught them constellations and always knew which nights the meteor showers would come. Sans gripped the snow next to him in sorrow as he stared at the dark, starless ceiling, tears silently falling down his face.

Sans shook his head, bringing himself back to the present, and wiped his eyes. He pulled over to the haversack and rummaged for some food.

“Hey, Pap,” he called over as he prepared the meal. “Want some dinner?”

Papyrus jumped up and ran over to him, always eager for food.

“Sorry it’s more cheese and mushroom sandwiches,” he apologized, handing one to his brother. “We just have to use them up before they go bad.”

Papyrus didn’t seem to be bothered with the meal repetition as he plunked himself down on the snow and hungrily munched on his sandwich.

As he ate, Sans thought about their next steps. Where would they spend the night? They couldn’t sleep out here in the open with the cold and chance of being spotted. They could keep going further, but if their father was with the others back in the cavern, Sans didn’t want to move on too far away. How would they find him? How were they going to survive on their own with dwindling food supplies that were meant to last just a few days?

Sans had been thinking so long that he noticed Papyrus standing up, wiping crumbs and snow from his clothes, and returning to the pile of snow he had been playing with. Sans looked down at the half-eaten sandwich in his hand and sighed. Knowing that worrying would solve nothing, he finished his sandwich and tried to focus on the more urgent problem—where they were going to sleep.

He popped the last morsel into his mouth and picked himself up off the ground, wiping snow from the back of his pants. He picked up the haversack and shouldered it, reluctantly preparing to move on. He trudged over to his brother.

Papyrus had been busy making a little wall of snow all around him, and was now working on the mound of snow in the middle.

Sans laughed fondly. “Hey, Pap, that reminds me of the snow forts we used to make back home—”

Sans stopped. _A snow fort! We could make a place to sleep with snow!_

“Pap, you’re a genius!” he exclaimed to the confused little skeleton.

Sans walked over to where three of the large boulders were gathered in a triangular pattern. There was a small gap between them at the center where they nearly touched, and he considered it as he stared at the boulders, gears turning in his head. He paced back and forth as he planned.

Reaching a design, he raised his left hand and created a wall of white bones, slightly taller than himself, that rose from the ground and formed a half circle, two of the boulders at either end. He had left a small gap in the middle of the half circle that would serve as the “door.” Then he created a long white bone. It fell over once formed since he had created it to be loose, fully formed with an epiphysis on either end. Struggling with its length, he lifted the bone in both hands high above his head and walked through the gap in the wall. He placed the bone on the walls so that it served at the start to the roof.

He created more bones this way, each one decreasing in size, and laid each on the bone wall. Once he had placed the last bone on the roof, he stood back to admire his handiwork.

“Well, that’s the _skeleton_ of the fort,” he grinned to himself.

He went into the structure, heading towards the back. He created a few bones to make a back wall in the gaps on either side of the third boulder, forming a circular room in the back of the shelter, ensuring the whole snow fort was enclosed. Then he made more loose white bones to make a roof for the little room, crisscrossing the bones to cover the triangular gap between the three boulders.

Sans emerged, then started the laborious task of piling and packing snow upon the bones. He started with the walls, then would climb up on the boulders to work on the roof. Papyrus, seeing what his brother was doing with the snow, came over to help. The little one pushed mound after mound of snow towards the snow fort, which Sans was grateful for, and together, the two skeletons created their small shelter. Once they were finished, they stood back and looked at it, both exhausted and catching their breaths.

Sans had smoothed the walls and roof so that they were rounded, looking just like another boulder. The doorway sloped downwards and protruded from the fort so that they had to crawl to enter. Inside, they had packed more snow, ensuring that the shelter had thick walls. They left the portions of the boulders that ran through the shelter exposed, saving themselves the work of making more walls than they needed.

The shelter itself, while it took them ages to create, was rather small, but spacious enough for Sans and Papyrus to be able to walk around and even lay down. They looked down at each other and smiled, happy with the result of their hard work.

“Well,” Sans said. “Now we’ve got a place to sleep.”

“Nyeh!” Papyrus agreed.

Sans put his hands on his hips. “Let’s rest for a bit, Pap. Then I want to explore the area more. See if we can find any food.”

His brother nodded, and they entered the shelter. It was dark inside now that it had been covered in snow, so Sans created a few blue bones and stuck them in the corners of the shelter, their blue-white light illuminating their new space nicely—Sans ran outside and circled the shelter to make sure the light couldn’t be seen through the thick walls. He then lifted his left hand and created a rectangular platform out of tightly clumped bones several inches high to serve as a bed on the right side of the shelter. Papyrus sat on it and watched as Sans emptied the contents of the haversack onto the snowy floor. Then he put the bag on the bed for Papyrus to use as a pillow. The little skeleton curled up and sleepily watched his older brother work.

Sans wanted to store the contents of the haversack in the shelter, ensuring that when they went out to forage, there would be as much room in the bag as possible. He went over to the left-side boulder-wall and formed a wide bowl out of the snow right in front of it and put the carrots, apples, and pears in it. He created a small shelf from tiny white bones out of the boulder above the bowl and placed the remaining mushrooms, wedges of cheese, bread loaves, most of the dried fruit, and the cloth pouches of nuts on it so that they didn’t get wet and spoil.

“Now we have a small pantry, Pap,” he said with a small laugh as he turned to his brother. He laughed again as he saw that Papyrus had fallen asleep on the bed, curled up on the haversack.

Sans made another small shelf further over on the boulder wall and put the stones for cracking nuts, the leaves, and dried vines on it. Then he put Papyrus’ tiny white bones in a pile on the left side near the wall.

He looked down at what remained—some dried fruit, the coils of vines, and the sharp stone for cutting. He stuffed the dried fruit in his pants pockets and placed the sharp stone in his jacket pocket. He wanted these items close in case of an emergency. He would put the coil of vines in the haversack in case he needed it for tying anything.

As much as he hated to do so, he nudged his brother awake.

“Hey, Pap,” he whispered. “Nap time’s over. Time for a walk.”

Papyrus sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as his brother took the haversack and placed the vines in the side pocket. He looked sleepily up at Sans, frowning.

“I’m sorry, Pap,” his brother apologized. “I just want to make sure there’s no one out there around us, and I want to see if we can forage anything. Then we’ll head back here and get a full night’s sleep. Ok?”

Papyrus hopped off the bed, nodding with a sleepy grin. “Nyeh.”

Sans shouldered the empty haversack and extended his hand for Papyrus to hold. “Great, let’s go.”

The area was so vast, Sans had a hard time figuring out where to even begin. He settled on a course towards the stone wall construction, giving an extremely wide berth so as not to be seen. He wanted to see if there were indeed monsters working outside of the cavern, or if they were safe from being caught in the wintery valley.

As they continued, he kept a watchful eye on the cavern that sat in the distance to his right. His ears strained to hear any noise apart from that made by him and his brother. As they progressed, Sans caught sight of a trail of dim lights.

He froze, holding Papyrus back, fearing that monsters or humans were approaching. After a few moments he realized that the lights weren’t moving. Still, he approached them cautiously. They appeared to extend from one side of the snowy valley all the way over towards the cavern. They were spaced far apart, but definitely formed a sparse pathway of lights. The closer they got, the more distinct they became, and it was soon apparent that the lights were tall torches stuck in the ground. Sans kept an eye and ear out for anyone who might be using the lights, but the valley was empty. Soon they were at the torches and Sans understood what they were for.

The torches had been placed by a monster, for the fire that burned in them was magic, creating no smoke and burning gently. They lit up the path the monsters had taken that would lead them to the cavern they had sought refuge in. The snow had been packed hard by the thousands of monsters who had trudged through the trail, creating a shallow trench through the valley.

Sans noticed something in the snow and went over to it. It was a small bit of rope, barely longer than Sans’ arm. He reached behind him and put it in the side pocket of the haversack.

He looked at Papyrus. “I wonder what else we can find?”

They walked along the path, finding smatterings of items here and there, dropped by monsters as they made their urgent trek to get away from the humans. Sans collected all of it, not wanting to leave anything behind. As much as he wanted to find his father as soon as possible, he knew he needed to prepare to be out here for much longer than he hoped. Papyrus helped him find items, thinking of it as a fun game. Between them, they found several pieces of rope and twine, broken bits of wood in varying shapes, numerous pieces of torn and whole fabric, several broken arrow and spear tips, countless bits of parchment, and various other lost items. Most importantly, they found a large amount of dropped and discarded food, which Sans was extremely grateful for.

But the prize piece of forage was a small, cushioned mat that was still rolled up. Sans couldn’t believe his eyes as he picked it up out of the snow from the edge of the path. The straps that had held it in place were torn, and the owner probably didn’t even realize it had fallen off their belongings. It would make sleeping on the bed of bones much more bearable. He stowed it gratefully in the haversack.

They continued foraging down the path, the bag becoming quite full, when the stone wall in the cavern came into view. Seeing no sign of monsters, Sans chanced getting in closer to inspect it.

It had been completed, sealing off the cavern opening. The large purple bricks had been fortified with a smooth coating. A large set of purple stone doors had been placed in the center, framed by two violet, fluted columns. Above the door was a decorative arch that bore the same symbol he had seen on his mother’s uniform—a circle with wings flying over three triangles.

Sans had seen enough to feel confident that there wouldn’t be monsters out in the valley. Judging by the tall, undisturbed snowdrift that had blown up against the door, it hadn’t been open since being built.

Sans motioned to Papyrus that they were leaving, and they returned the way they had come. They trotted quickly back down the trodden path until Sans found the single trail of their footprints leaving the path.

Before they headed back to the shelter, Sans looked longingly at the fire in the torch. He knew he was still too young to work with fire, but he needed it to keep him and Papyrus warm through the night. He realized the necessity outweighed the risks, and knew that magic fire made by monsters was much safer than regular fire, so he raised his left hand and two white bones shot up instantly from the ground at an angle, snapping the tall wooden torch into a shorter, more portable torch.

Sans picked it up carefully before it extinguished in the snow, holding it up in front of him. He made the bones disappear, then created a single, loose white bone. He urged Papyrus to head down the trail of their footprints while he followed at the rear, holding the torch in one hand while leveling away their footprints with the bone—knowing that the snowfall would fill in the rest—so they couldn’t be followed.

They arrived back at the shelter, exhausted but accomplished. Sans broke down the snow he had put up to cover the doorway to protect the shelter from intruders, as well as keep the blue-white light inside from showing. They crawled into the shelter, Sans taking extra care keeping the torch from melting the snow as he crawled awkwardly. Papyrus was already sitting on the bed, his eyes fighting to keep open.

Sans unshouldered the haversack and dropped it on the snowy floor. He took the torch into the small room where the three boulders met. He raised his left hand and created a small basin-like structure with tightly clumped bones from the ground in the center of the room. It was rounded on all sides and was raised a few inches off the ground. Then he laid the torch in the middle of the basin. The small magical fire sat there, burning gently without a single wisp of smoke.

Sans looked up at the ceiling, worried about the fire melting the snow, but keeping Papyrus warm through the night was worth the risk. As an extra measure of protection for the flame from melting snow, he created platforms from each boulder. They overlapped each other and were slightly angled a couple feet above the flame. Any water that fell from melting snow would now drop on the platforms instead of the flame and run down the bones towards the boulders. Other than that, all he could do was fix any melting damage in the morning.

He went into the main room and took out the cushioned mat. He unrolled it and laid it on the bone bed, with Papyrus moving for him. It was bigger than the little bed, so it drooped over on all sides. The little skeleton gladly tested it out, squirming comfortably on the soft, thick mat.

Sans went out to the front opening and sealed it with a thick wall of snow in lieu of a proper door. Satisfied that they were shut off from the outside world, he wearily went over and picked up the haversack. He took the sharp and fragile items out of the bag and laid them on the floor for him to deal with in the morning. He took out the larger scraps of fabric, piling them next to the bed, and put the haversack on the head of the bed.

He raised his left hand and created two single bones in the right boulder near the bed. He took off his jacket and hung it on one bone, then helped Papyrus take off his red scarf and hung that on the second bone. He took Papyrus’ shoes off, then his own, setting them next to the bed. Then Papyrus scooted over to the haversack and laid his head on it as Sans got into the bed next to him. He took the fabric scraps from beside the bed and laid them over himself and Papyrus, overlapping each piece, to cover them. Sans raised his left hand and the blue bones around them disappeared, darkening the room.

Sans laid down, his brother snuggling in his arms as he wrapped his arms around Papyrus. Sans nuzzled in to his brother as they drifted off to sleep in the soft light of the magic fire.


	8. Chapter 8

Sans slowly came awake, opening his eyes reluctantly. In the dim of firelight cast from the other room, he looked down at Papyrus, still fast asleep in his arms. Sans slipped out his arm, causing Papyrus to shift in his sleep. Sans froze, waiting for the little skeleton to settle, which he did.

Sans sat on the edge of the bed and stretched, popping his bones loudly. He sighed contently—he hadn’t felt this refreshed in a long time. Covering up his little brother with the bits of fabric, Sans put on his shoes and walked into the little room.

The flame had dwindled, but was still burning. Sans inspected the ceiling and walls, and noted only minor melting. Nothing too hard to repair with a few handfuls of snow. Figuring he’d do that later, he went over to their tiny pantry.

He went to make the usual cheese and mushroom sandwiches for him and his brother, but paused. They had a fire now, so he might as well put it to proper use. He grinned at the thought of warm food, but he had only watched his parents cook. He had been too young to learn at the time. He frowned, then remembered how he and his family used to roast vegetables on campfires when they would go for night-time excursions. His parents let him hold the thin, skewer-like bones, and they had taught him when to tell that roasted food was done, so he decided to try roasting the food for breakfast for a change.

He frowned again. He still didn’t know how to make sharpened bones like adult skeletons did. He could make white bones and blue bones, bones of different sizes, loose bones and bones rooted firmly in a solid surface. But all he could form were rounded epiphyses, the basic shape any infant could form, which wouldn’t skewer a baked potato. He sighed sadly, thinking of how his parents promised they would help him practice creating them when he was old enough for sharpened bones like points and blades. He made a mental note to start practicing on his own soon.

Until then, he needed to find something to skewer the food. He couldn’t look in the haversack, since Papyrus was still sleeping soundly with his head on it. He looked through the pile of sharp and fragile objects on the floor, and selected the longest of the spearheads. The sharp, metal spearhead was still firmly attached to its wooden shaft, which had been broken off about a foot from the spearhead.

He cleaned the spearhead by covering it in snow and putting it over the fire to melt. Once the snow had liquified to water, he pulled it from the flame and wiped it with a clean bit of fabric, taking extra care not to cut himself. He then stuck the broken end into the fire, turning it slowly to burn off the splinters and sharp slivers. After pulling it back out and sticking it in the snowy ground to cool off, he went to find something to put the food on once it was cooked.

He looked through the items he had collected—those that weren’t still stored in the haversack—and didn’t see anything clean or sanitary enough to put food on. His eyes fell on Papyrus’ tiny white bones by the wall and thought up a solution. Grabbing a handful of them, he brought them into the fire room. He laid the bones on the snowy ground, side by side, making a small cooling rack.

Satisfied, he went and grabbed a couple button mushrooms and tore off hunks of bread and cheese. He returned to the fire and put the food on the cooling rack. He broke the bit of bread in half, tore each piece down the middle, then stuck all four pieces on the spearhead and held them over the fire until they were toasted.

He removed the hot bread from the spear onto the cooling rack with a tiny bone and used the hot spearhead to slice the cheese. It was so much nicer having a tool to cut food—the cutting rock was deemed too dirty to touch food—instead of tearing it apart in pieces with his hands. He laid the thick cheese slices on two of the pieces of bread, then pierced the two mushrooms on the spear and roasted them over the fire.

Since the mushrooms would take longer to cook through, Sans took the opportunity to check his HP while he held the broken spear with one hand.

40 HP/1 HP.

Sans’ breath was lost in shock. He had gained 20 extra HP overnight. Sans considered this new information with what he had already learned, while trying to restrain his immense joy. Passing out and falling unconscious meant no extra HP was gained. Falling asleep to rest in short spurts like naps and partial sleep gained 10 extra HP. And now, it appeared that a full night’s sleep gained 20 extra HP.

However, he had slept a full night with Papyrus both days before, so why hadn’t he gained 20 extra HP after those nights? Then he remembered that the first night was when he had suffered the HP max reduction and was at 1 HP, and on the next night, he had the full night’s sleep after being injured. Running his free hand over his skull, he tried to sum up his findings. Uninjured, with extra HP, a short nap gained 10 and a full night gained 20. Loss of HP meant the number of extra gained was reduced.

At least, that was the theory. It was all still new to him, completely overwhelming, and he was constantly learning more about his new condition. He sighed, deciding to somehow record his findings to help him keep track. He did have parchment now....

As he concluded his thoughts, he noticed that the mushrooms were now sufficiently roasted. Sans pushed the cooked mushrooms onto the rack with the tiny bone. He then held down the mushrooms with the bone as he sliced them into thick pieces with the spear. He put them over the cheese covered bread pieces—the cheese having melted slightly with the heat of the bread underneath—and placed the top bits of bread onto the sandwiches.

The smell of roasted food had roused Papyrus, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning when Sans entered the main room with the two sandwiches. He snapped fully awake at the sight of breakfast, and jumped off the bed. Sans put the sandwiches on the pantry shelf momentarily as he made some blue bones to brighten up the shelter, stuck them in the snow around the room, then grabbed the sandwiches and sat down on the ground. Papyrus sat in front of him, and Sans handed his little brother one of the sandwiches, satisfied that it had cooled down enough not to burn him.

“Here you go, Pap,” he grinned. “And look! I’m learning how to cook with the fire now!”

Papyrus cheered his brother’s accomplishment happily. “Nyeh!” Then he munched on the roasted goodness.

Sans bit down on his sandwich, closed his eyes, and moaned in delight. It seemed like forever since they had a home cooked meal, even though it had only been a few days. The cooked mushrooms, melted cheese, and toasted bread was far better than the raw mushrooms, chunks of cheese, and stale bread they had been eating. Papyrus appeared to feel the same way, as he had been humming with every bite.

Sans finished the heavenly breakfast, feeling quite proud at how he managed to cook, even if it was just roasting food over a fire. When they were done, Sans decided to put away the foraged items from the night before, while Papyrus went over to the wall and played with his tiny white bones.

The first things Sans stored were the sharp objects so that Papyrus didn’t get hurt by playing with them. He took the broken arrows and spears with wood still attached and went over to the pantry boulder. He stood next to the shelf with the dried vines and rocks, raised his left hand and created four bones, in sets of two, side by side and higher than the shelf. He reached up and hung the broken arrows on the first set, pointed side up, sliding the arrow shafts in between the two bones. Then he did the same for the broken spears on the second rack, the gap between the bones wider for the spear shafts. He stepped back, making sure their wooden shafts hung down out of reach of Papyrus.

Then Sans rummaged in the haversack, looking for the piece of torn burlap he had found the night before. Finding it, he took it and a piece of vine to the pile of sharp and fragile items. He laid out the burlap on the snow and put the loose arrow and spear heads in the middle. Then he gathered up the burlap, bundling up the sharp metal, and tied the top with the vine. He took the pouch, as well as the random fragile items—several pieces of broken pottery, a tomato, and three bananas—and put the pouch and pottery on the shelf with the rocks and dried vines, and the food on the pantry shelf.

Now that the items he had dumped out of the haversack the night before were put away, he took the haversack off the bed and opened it. He took out the contents, laying them on the snowy floor, until the haversack was empty. He tossed the bag back on the bed and sat on the floor in front of the pile to sort and organize it.

Sans looked at the bits of parchment. Some had words on them, others were completely blank. He gathered them up and put the pile on the bed, wishing he had a writing implement for them. He coiled the ropes and twines, tossing the longer pieces up on the haversack to take with him foraging. He sifted through the pieces of wood, noting that some could be useful and others were only good for fire kindling. Then he inspected the food they had found. He was pleased to see that most of it would last for days, if not more than a week, while hoping that he wouldn’t need food for that long.

He paused, his grin fading. He didn’t want to plan ahead for their survival, living alone in the valley. He didn’t need to, not when his father was somewhere in the mountain. The sudden urge to return to the cavern to look for their father gripped his soul tight. He looked down at the things he had yet to sort through and no longer wanted to waste time on the task. He stood up, put the items that would be damaged if kept on the snow on the bed and grabbed his jacket and the red cloth.

Papyrus looked up from his playing when he saw Sans getting ready to go out and went over to him. Sans tied the cloth around his brother’s neck, helped him put on his little shoes, and then shouldered the emptied haversack, all without saying a word.

Sans dug through the opening and they crawled out. After Sans covered up the entrance, he led his brother towards the cavern. Papyrus looked up at him, noticing that his big brother seemed to be bothered by something. Papyrus whimpered softly to himself and looked down at the ground sadly.

They traversed the valley at a quickened pace, Sans desperate to find their father. When they reached the slope under the tunnel, Sans unshouldered the haversack.

“Gotta go back in, Pap,” he said quietly.

Papyrus went in without a struggle, very concerned as to why Sans was being so serious all of a sudden.

Sans shouldered the bag, raised his left hand and created a bone staircase leading right to the tunnel’s entrance. He ascended quickly, entered the tunnel, then made the bones disappear. He clasped his hands and created a blue bone to light the way, then practically ran down the tunnel.

He didn’t stop until he reached one of the window-like holes that oversaw the giant cavern. When he peered through, he gasped. The cavern looked much different from how it did the last time they saw it.

The walls and floor on the opposite side were no longer natural stone, but purple and violet bricks. There were far less monsters than there had been before in this half-finished section of the cavern. Some were working on removing stalagmites and stones from the natural ground with their magic, others were laying large purple bricks on the floor and sealing them with their magic. Several monsters brought wheelbarrows full of bricks in, while others took wheelbarrows full of stones, rocks, and broken stalagmites out. After scanning through the handful of them and not seeing their father, Sans continued on further down the tunnel.

He reached another set of holes and looked through again. He could see more monsters, some creating purple bricks, some filling empty wheelbarrows with finished bricks, while others smoothed away the cavern walls with their magic to make room for the wall on the opposite side. There was still no sign of their father.

Sans kept going until he reached the tunnel’s end, high up in the enormous cavern wall. The rest of the monsters had settled in here. Most of the stalagmites and stone formations had been removed, flattening the cavern floor, and the monsters now had much more room to spread out. Sans saw tents scattered along the walls, but much further apart than they had been in the narrower part of the cavern. He looked over at the ceiling and saw that the hole opening was still there, and wondered if anyone noticed it was there.

Sans groaned. There were tens of thousands of monsters in this cavern, many too far for him to see from this end of the cavern. The tunnel ended here, so this was as close as he could get. He sat down on the tunnel floor far away enough from the opening to be seen, but close enough for him to look down at the sea of monsters.

He unshouldered the haversack and propped it up against the tunnel wall so that Papyrus could look out, but Sans had no intentions on letting him out.

“Sorry, Pap,” he apologized, his tone quite terse, not taking his eyes off the crowd. “I don’t want you to accidentally fall down there. Stay quiet, though. We don’t want to get caught.”

Papyrus, unsettled by Sans’ mood change, pulled his head into the haversack to hide. He curled up inside the bag as tears fell down his eyes. The little skeleton wept softly, not knowing what was wrong with his brother, wondering if he had somehow upset him earlier. Sans was so focused on the cavern that he didn’t even notice his brother crying in the bag right next to him.

Sans rubbed his tired eyes. He had spent most of the day darting his eyes from monster to monster, any speck of white catching his eye. But he didn’t want to stop, even if his heavy eyelids protested.

He cricked his neck for the umpteenth time, shifting his sore back that was tired from sitting on the same stone ground.

 _Just a little while longer,_ he told his body, not wanting to leave without spotting their father.

_Unless he’s already dead._

The thought entered his mind, his breath catching in his throat. Then he got angry at the thought. He banged the tunnel wall with his fist suddenly, the loud noise unnoticed by the monsters below.

But Papyrus heard it. He jumped at the sound, peering out of the bag slowly, terrified. His brother looked furious. The little skeleton started trembling.

 _No!_ Sans argued with the thought. _He’s not dead! I just haven’t found him yet!_

He kept scanning, but his tired eyes were having a hard time focusing. At last, he punched the wall again, angry with himself for not being able to find their father.

Papyrus jumped again, the trembling worsening.

Sans admitted defeat. His father could be right below them, but his tired eyes wouldn’t be able to see him. He shouldered the haversack roughly and stood up, not even noticing that Papyrus was cowering.

Reluctantly, Sans made his way back through the tunnel. He would have to try again tomorrow.

When they hit the snowy ground of the valley, Sans wordlessly let Papyrus out of the haversack. Then he shouldered the empty bag and started trudging towards the shelter.

He didn’t even notice that Papyrus had held back, standing for a moment, watching his brother, tears spilling down his face. Slowly, the little skeleton followed his brother, who was already very much ahead of him.

Sans reached the shelter and had already dug out the opening when Papyrus caught up. Sans entered the shelter while Papyrus hesitated. His brother hadn’t even looked him in the eye since breakfast.

Papyrus crawled in the shelter and saw Sans sitting on the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands, the haversack tossed on the floor. Papyrus stood up and approached his brother timidly.

Sans was mumbling to himself, but Papyrus couldn’t hear what he was saying. The little skeleton reached the bed and caught Sans’ words.

“Daddy, I won’t give up.... If I have to search the whole mountain.... I _will_ find you....”

Papyrus’ eyes grew wide. Sans was upset because they hadn’t found their father.

“Sas...?” Papyrus whispered.

Hearing his brother’s voice, Sans stood up suddenly and went back to the opening.

“Stay here,” he said, his tone low and firm, still not looking at his brother. “I’m going outside for a bit.”

Then he left, leaving the sad, scared little skeleton behind.

Papyrus crept out the opening, looked around, and saw Sans. He had walked far away from the shelter, and was now creating tall white bones. Papyrus watched as Sans created a loose, white bone and began hitting the other bones with it like a sword.

Papyrus stood at the shelter’s entrance, thinking. He missed his father, too. But Sans appeared to be missing him so much more that it was making him angry and hurt. If Sans was right and his father was somewhere in the mountain, and finding their father would make Sans happy again—like he was this morning at breakfast—then all he had to do was find their father and bring him back to Sans.

Papyrus balled his fists up in determination and narrowed his eyes. Yes, he would find their father and everything would be better. He looked up at his brother one more time, then turned around and started walking through the snow, off to find their father.

Sans gripped the bone tightly in his hands, gritting his teeth, as he swung this way and that, the bone whipping though the air loudly until the deafening crunch of bone on bone filled the air.

_I’m not going to give up!_

He twisted, swiping at another bone, splinters of white flying off the bone and disappearing in the snowfall.

_I will find you!_

He swung around, bringing the bone down against another.

_You aren’t dead!_

He spun, slashing at another.

_I know you aren’t dead!!!_

The bone in his hands shattered against the tall bone, having reached its literal breaking point. Sans let the broken bone fall from his aching hand as he dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hands.

_Because...I can still feel you...in my soul...._

He collapsed onto his hands and wept bitterly, gripping the snow in anguish. He fell to his side in the snow and curled up, weeping for his lost father, his beloved mother’s death, the loss of their home, and the fear of getting caught and having Papyrus ripped from him.

When he had at last calmed down, he lay there quietly. He was so tired, so very tired. He sat up slowly, figuring that he should feed Papyrus and go to bed early. Tomorrow he would return to the cavern to look for their father, and if he didn’t find him tomorrow, then the next day, and the day after that. But for now, he needed to return to Papyrus, who was probably getting worried about him by now.

Sans picked himself up, made the bones disappear, and trudged back to the shelter, wiping his tears on his sleeves. He desperately hoped he’d gone far enough away from the shelter that Papyrus didn’t hear him.

He crawled into the shelter, weary from emotional drain. He stood up and called to Papyrus.

“Hey, Pap, let’s have dinner and head to bed, ok?”

Sans’ eyes grew wide. He didn’t see Papyrus anywhere. He ran to the fire room, but he wasn’t there.

“No....”

He ran to the opening, scrambled outside quickly, and stood up, panning the area for his brother. He saw nothing but the white valley, the snowfall limiting his visibility. He looked down, panic starting to grip him.

In the snow, he could make out tiny footprints leading away from the shelter, heading away from the cavern side of the valley and towards the unknown. The prints had filled in partially with the snow. His brother had been gone for a while.

“ _No...!_ ”

Sans broke into a sprint, following the footprints. He started gasping for air as the exertion and panic robbed his lungs. He searched frantically, but could barely see through the snow and the eyestrain from searching the cavern for countless hours. The trail of footprints slowly started to disappear, hidden by the ever-falling snow. Soon, it had been wiped away completely by wind and snow.

Sans stopped, his heart pounding, searching the enormous valley that appeared to have no end. Tears spilled down his face as fear gripped his soul.

He cupped his hands against his mouth and cried out as loud as he could. “Papyrus!”

He strained his ears for an answer. Nothing but the howling wind.

“ _Papyrus!!!”_

Nothing.

Papyrus was nowhere to be seen.


	9. Chapter 9

The winds blustered through the valley, carrying waves of snowflakes through their currents. In the midst of the unnatural storm trudged the lone skeleton.

Sans had been searching the valley for Papyrus for hours. He was exhausted, but refused to stop and rest. He couldn’t, not with his little brother out there, somewhere, helpless and alone. He held his hood over his skull as the harsh winds tried to whip it off his head. He shivered, frozen to the very core, and couldn’t bear the thought of what the bitter cold was doing to his brother.

He had called out to Papyrus so loudly and so often that he no longer had his voice. All he could do was listen for his brother while searching the whitened valley for any trace of footprints or silhouettes.

His eyes were so blurred from eyestrain that he thought he spotted Papyrus several times in the distance. As soon as he got closer, he realized it was just a boulder or a stone formation.

Sans stumbled again. He landed on his stomach in the snow, grunting painfully. He struggled to rise, his body fighting to stay down. But the resoluteness burning deep inside his soul overpowered his body’s desires to rest. He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth as he painfully rose to his feet. He pulled his hood back over his head and kept going.

As he slogged on, eyes darting back and forth shakily, he berated himself.

 _This is all my fault. I never,_ ever _should have left him alone like that. I should have held it together for him. I never should have gone off to be by myself. He’s too young to be left alone. Now he’s somewhere in this nothingness, and I can’t find him anywhere. I was supposed to protect him...._

Sans’ thoughts jolted. He shut his eyes tight and sighed sadly.

 _I thought I_ was _protecting him, though.... I didn’t want him to see me that upset.... I left him behind so he wouldn’t see his big brother break down.... Who am I kidding? I’m a worthless older brother.... I failed to take care of him, I failed to protect him, and now, I can’t even find him...._

A gust blew a bevy of snowflakes into Sans’ face. He shut his eyes to shield them, then his eyes shot wide open and a chill not caused by the weather ran up his spine.

_Wh-what if...I can’t find him...because he’s already dusted...?_

Hot tears fell down his frozen face. He shook his head fiercely.

 _No! No, I_ will _find him! He’s here somewhere, I just need to keep looking! I won’t let anything like that happen to him! Ever!_

A dark thought popped into his mind. _Even though you let him wander off alone._

He yelled back at the thought in his mind. _I didn’t mean to!_ _I thought he’d stay! I didn’t want him to see me like that! I didn’t want him to see his brother being weak! I’m supposed be his big, strong brother, not the useless, weak skeleton that I_ really _am! He looks up to me all the time, and all I ever do is let him down...._

Sans shut his eyes tight and gnashed his teeth in frustration at himself. Then he opened his eyes, narrowing them, and pushed himself forward, determined that he wouldn’t fail Papyrus this time.

Sans’ eyes were burning from eyestrain, exhaustion, and the wind. His body ached immensely from pushing himself so hard. Still, he refused to give up.

He passed yet another snow-encrusted stone formation and panned the area, as he’d done a million times. Something caught his eye, and he froze.

Off in the distance, Sans saw a figure. It was his mother. She was far away, but he was positive it was her. She was still in her Royal Guard armor.

“M-Mommy...?” he whispered hoarsely.

Even at that distance, Sans could see her smiling at him. Then she turned, her red cape blowing in the wind, and she disappeared.

Sans rubbed his sore eyes, then blinked back the tears that started to fall. He shut his eyes tight, livid at the exhaustion for playing such a cruel trick on his eyes. Of course that wasn’t her, Sans had watched her die. Sans had watched her dust off....

The mirage had angered and saddened him. He rubbed his eyes again in an effort to get them to focus back on reality. He opened them, looked out at where he had seen her, and groaned. He rubbed his eyes harder because he was still seeing the hallucination. He was clearly losing his sanity at this point.

He opened his eyes once more, blinking away the blurriness. He could still see her red cape in the distance. He stared, watching it flap in the wind.

Then it hit him. That wasn’t his mother’s red cape.

“ _Papyrus...!_ ” he gasped.

With newfound energy, he rushed as fast as he could through the thick snow and his physical exhaustion. He kept the red cloth squarely in his sights.

As he neared his brother, he saw that Papyrus was lying on his side, unconscious and almost entirely covered by snow. The only movement came from the end of his scarf, caught in the wind.

Sans reached him, skidding in the snow on his knees. “Papyrus...!”

He rolled his little brother over, brushing the snow off him urgently. His cheekbones were blue.

Sans held his brother’s tiny head up as he wiped snow off his face and tried to rouse him, his voice still hoarse. “Papyrus.... Papyrus, wake up....”

He was unresponsive.

“Please, Pap...,” his brother begged, tears falling. “Please wake up....”

His little brother remained motionless.

Sans tearfully lowered his ear to Papyrus’ mouth. His breathing was weak and shallow.

Sans put his hand on his brother’s chest and watched the glow of his soul under his hand, whimpering when he saw that the glow was faint.

31 HP/100 HP.

Sans stifled a sob at the sight of how much HP his brother had lost. He still had his hand on his brother’s tiny chest and was about to remove it when he sensed it.

30 HP/100 HP.

Sans’ eyes grew wide in fear. Papyrus was still losing HP. If he didn’t get him back to the shelter soon, he would die.

Fighting down his panic, he lay Papyrus’ head down gently on the snow and practically tore his own jacket off. He laid it down and picked up Papyrus’ pitiful, frozen body and put him on the jacket and wrapped him in it. He picked his brother up, cradling him in his arms, and turned around to make his way back to the shelter.

Sans looked around frantically. The panic he had been fighting started to seep in quickly. He had no idea what direction the shelter was in. There was no sign of the cavern with its purple and violet walls to guide him. He had been searching aimlessly for so long, he wasn’t even sure which direction he was facing.

He looked at the unconscious form of his brother in his arms and was gripped with anxiety. Papyrus was going to die soon. Sans wasn’t going to make it to the shelter in time.

Sans shut his eyes tight, then opened and narrowed them, fighting off the fear. He decided to walk back the way he had just come and hoped the cavern would come into view to guide him back. He had no idea if he was headed in the right direction or not, but he needed to move.

With each aching step, he felt more and more worried that he was too far away and Papyrus was too badly injured. He shut his eyes tight, trying to motivate himself to keep going, knowing that he had to try to get his brother back to the shelter as soon as possible.

He tried to remember the way back, wishing desperately that they were there now and not so far away. He pictured where the shelter was located, trying to recall any other landmarks he could look for, when he heard a sudden, strange _fwoosh-_ ing sound accompanied by a sharp blast of wind. His eyes snapped open and he gasped, afraid that something bad was happening.

He froze, paralyzed. His eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open.

The shelter was right in front of them. He blinked, then looked around. Off in the distance was the cavern, the grouping of boulders was around them, and the shelter was where it had stood since the day he and his brother made it.

Had he travelled in circles so many times that he ended up back here? But there was no way the shelter had been in front of him when he turned around after picking up Papyrus. He remembered looking out into nothingness. He had even searched for the cavern that was so clearly in view now.

He looked down at Papyrus, still motionless, wrapped up pitifully in his jacket. How they had gotten there didn’t matter right now. Papyrus needed help immediately.

Sans ran to the opening, realizing that he hadn’t even sealed it in his panic to find his brother. He awkwardly crawled in the opening, holding his limp brother with one arm as he pulled himself through on his knees and free elbow.

The moment he got into the shelter, he rushed to the bed. He tossed the foraged items onto the floor and pushed the scraps of fabric away. He gently laid his unconscious brother on the bed, unwrapped him from his jacket, and took off his frozen clothes, putting them on the floor by the bedside. He wrapped his brother tightly in scraps of fabric until only his face was exposed.

Sans leaned over Papyrus, putting his ear to his brother’s mouth again. His breathing was feeble and barely audible. He checked his brother’s HP again, the glow from his soul dimmer than before.

27 HP/100 HP.

Sans grabbed his frozen jacket, his brother’s frigid clothes, and pieces of fabric he hadn’t wrapped his brother in, and rushed to the fire room. He created a few bones out of the boulders and quickly hung the clothes and fabric to warm them by the fire.

He then went to the pile of wood he had sorted earlier that morning. He hadn’t moved them from the middle of the floor yet since he abandoned the task suddenly to search for their father. He grabbed several pieces of the wood that were only good for burning and returned to the fire room. He shoved the wood in the fire basin to fuel the dwindling magical flame.

When he saw the fire perk up, he went back to the main room and quickly crawled through the opening to the entrance, sealing it up to keep the cold out and the heat in. He crawled back in and picked up the haversack he had tossed on the floor earlier. He quickly stuffed it with the foraged items to fill it, and once everything from the floor was placed in the bag, he gently lifted Papyrus’ head and slid the haversack under.

Sans knelt down on the snow at the side of the bed. He stroked Papyrus’ head gently as he rested his head on his other arm. He needed to wait a few minutes for the fabric to warm, so he spent the time just being near his brother. His tiny skull was still so cold to the touch. Tears of concern trickled down Sans’ face.

After a while, Sans went back into the fire room. The flame was burning strongly now, spreading to the bits of wood around it. He checked the clothes, but they hadn’t warmed up enough, although the scraps of fabric were warm enough to remove.

He brought them in the other room and knelt against the bed. Carefully, he removed the fabric from his brother and wrapped him in the warmed scraps. He folded up one of the smaller pieces and put it to the side. He gently laid Papyrus back on the haversack, tucking in a warm bit of fabric behind his head. Then Sans took the folded-up fabric and put it on his brother’s forehead.

Sans got up, his bones still aching horribly, and went to the fire room to put the fabric he had removed from Papyrus on the bones to warm. He needed to keep applying warmth to Papyrus, so he had to create a rotation of warming fabric. He double checked the clothes, wanting to get him dressed back into his shirt and pants desperately, but they were still too cold and wet.

Sans entered the main room and nearly stumbled when his knees buckled. He caught himself before he fell and checked his own HP briefly.

34 HP/1 HP.

The elements and exhaustion had cost him some health, but he stifled a sob when he realized that he now had more HP than his brother did, despite his new, lower HP max.

Sans couldn’t do anything to increase his HP until he slept, but he had no intentions of sleeping anytime soon. He needed to stop the pain in his body, however, so he could take care of Papyrus. Sans went over to the pantry shelf, tore off a piece from a stale half-loaf of bread, and shoved it in his mouth. He didn’t even taste the food before swallowing it, but he felt the pain subsiding.

He returned to Papyrus’ side, kneeling beside the bed, and took the warm cloth from his brother’s forehead and pressed it gently on each frozen, blue cheek.

Soon the fabric had cooled down, so Sans got up and went to the warming racks. The clothes were now sufficiently warm, so he grabbed them and the fabric. He carefully unwrapped Papyrus, then dressed his limp form into his clothes. He wrapped him again in warm fabric and gently laid him back down. He folded up the red cloth to make an extra warm pillow, then lifted his brother’s head to place the cloth under it. Sans then put his warmed jacket over him like a blanket.

When he went to put fabric in the fire room, he looked through the broken pottery pieces on the shelf. He chose the most rounded, bowl-like piece and took it with him. After hanging the fabric, he took a handful of snow and placed it in the broken pottery. It was extremely shallow, but at least it would hold some liquid. He sat it on the edge of the fire basin to melt and heat up, then returned to Papyrus’ side to continue watching and waiting.

Sans caught himself nodding off several times. He slapped himself in the face to wake himself up. He refused to sleep, but his body was severely protesting.

He looked at his brother sadly. He still hadn’t moved, but his HP was dropping at a slower rate. Sans checked it once again.

22 HP/100 HP.

Papyrus had lost nearly a fifth of his health, and it was all Sans’ fault. His brother was dying because he hadn’t been watching him.

Sans wiped his eyes on his sleeves and sat on the floor by his brother’s side, his back against the bone bed, feeling completely defeated. His brother might not survive the night.

Sans shut his eyes and sighed heavily, tears falling onto his lap.

_I should take him to the monsters in the cavern. They can heal him, take better care of him than I can._

He gripped the sides of his legs and gnashed his teeth.

_I know they will take him from me, and I will never see him again.... but at least he will live...._

Sans buried his face in his hands and wept bitterly, unable to hold back anymore. The idea of being separated from his brother crushed his soul worse than the barrier had done, but he was willing to do anything to save Papyrus. His loud cries filled the shelter.

“...Sas....”

Sans jerked his head up immediately, silencing himself with a gasp. He rose to his knees and quickly turned around, leaning towards Papyrus urgently.

It was subtle, but the tiny skeleton was stirring. He moved his head weakly, side to side, as if caught in a nightmare.

“...Sas....”

His voice was extremely weak and barely audible.

Sans stroked his brother’s head gently, putting his other arm around him in a half-embrace. He leaned his face close to his brother’s ear, his forehead resting against the side of Papyrus’ skull.

“I’m here, Pap,” Sans whispered back softly, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m here....”

Hearing his brother’s soothing voice, Papyrus settled down, a soft sigh emitting from his tiny lungs. Then he was motionless again.

Sans nuzzled against the side of his brother’s face as tears fell from his eyes. He continued whispering in his brother’s ear softly.

“I’m here, Papyrus.... I’m right here with you.... I’m not going anywhere....”

Sans wrapped Papyrus in warmed fabrics several more times, checking the progress of the melting snow in the broken pottery each time. At last it had fully melted and was warmed up enough to give to Papyrus.

He switched the cooled fabrics with the warm ones, hung them on the racks, then carefully picked up the semi-hot water and—making sure to walk slowly enough to not spill a drop—brought it to his brother. He set it on the bed, then knelt down.

Sans tipped Papyrus’ head back, gently opened his mouth, and poured a few drops of water in. Papyrus instinctually swallowed in his unconscious state, then Sans gave him more. The water was only slightly hot, safe enough for the little skeleton.

“There you go,” he whispered. “That will warm your insides.”

Sans helped him drink the remainder of the water slowly, a few drops at a time. Then he took the empty pottery, filled it with more snow, and set it on the fire basin again.

He returned to his brother’s side and checked his HP again. The white glow sputtered slightly, making Sans wince with concern.

20 HP/100 HP.

If there was any good news, it was that the rate his HP was dropping had slowed even more. But it was still too low, still falling, and without being able to feed him any food, there was no way to raise Papyrus’ HP. Sans hoped with all his soul that his little brother would wake up soon, before it was too late.

Sans returned with more warmed up fabrics and knelt down to change Papyrus’ coverings. He leaned in to start unwrapping and froze.

Papyrus was shivering terribly. His tiny little body tremored, his teeth chattered, and soft whimpers emitted from his throat. Sans checked his forehead for a fever, but his skull was still cold. His cheekbones were no longer blue, however.

Sans quickly started unwrapping the cooled-off fabrics and wrapped him in the warm ones. He rushed to put the fabrics on the warming rack, then returned to Papyrus. He checked his HP fearfully.

17 HP/100 HP.

The warmed fabrics seemed to have no effect on his shivering. Sans could only kneel by his side, stroking his brother’s skull gently.

“Pap...,” he whispered pleadingly. “Pap, please wake up.... Don’t leave me, Pap, _please_ don’t leave me.... Fight it, Pap, I know you can fight this....”

For a moment, Sans thought he felt his brother stirring again, but it must have been the shivering throughout his tiny body. He heard his brother whimper louder.

“It’s ok, Papyrus.... I’m here.... Shh, shh, shh.... I’m here, with you....”

As Sans continued stroking his brother’s forehead, he definitely felt him move. Then Papyrus’ eyes opened slightly.

“...Sas....”

His little voice came out in a weakened whisper.

“Papyrus...?” Sans gasped, holding Papyrus’ face in his hands.

Papyrus blinked slowly, opening his mouth feebly. “...Sas....”

Sans embraced his brother, tears of joy spilling down his eyes. He leaned back to face him.

“I’m going to get you something to eat,” he whispered, his voice quavering. “You need to get your health back.”

Sans nearly jumped across the room to get to the pantry. He scanned the food for something soft, and grabbed one of the bananas. He went into the fire room and grabbed the heated water, desperately trying not to spill it with his trembling hand.

He returned to the bedside, Papyrus laying there, shivering, but still conscious. His tiny eyes were barely open.

Sans lifted the water to Papyrus’ mouth and tilted it slightly. The little skeleton’s teeth chattered against the broken pottery as he gratefully sipped the warm water. After a few small gulps, Sans put the water down and started peeling the banana.

“This will help your pain, Pap,” Sans explained, breaking a tiny bit off urgently. “You’ll feel so much better after you eat.”

 _And so will I,_ he thought to himself.

He held the bit of banana to his brother’s mouth. Papyrus opened his mouth feebly, and Sans put the piece in. He chewed slowly while Sans broke off another piece. As Papyrus ate through half the banana, his shivering decreased. He was still extremely weak, but at least he was finally awake. His eyes opened a bit more and he looked up pitifully at Sans, who helped him wash down the banana with more warm water.

Sans then checked his HP. He grinned when he saw that the glow from Papyrus’ soul was brighter.

32 HP/100 HP.

Sans sighed deeply with relief. He would give Papyrus the rest of the banana soon, but he was no longer in danger. He still had a ways to go before he was fully healed, but Papyrus was going to be ok.

Sans put more snow on the fire basin to heat up, then brought the warmed fabrics to switch out his wrappings. After he changed the fabrics over, Papyrus snuggled into the warmth weakly.

Sans hung the fabrics up to warm, then knelt at Papyrus’ side. He stroked his head gently, as he had done throughout the night, and stifled a grateful sob when he felt Papyrus lean into the strokes after being unresponsive for so long.

“Papyrus,” Sans whispered pleadingly. “Please don’t ever leave me like that again. I was so, _so_ worried about you. Why did you go off without me?”

Papyrus’s eyes were sad as he answered weakly, his breathing still feeble. “...Pa...fin...Dada....”

Sans froze, stunned. “Y-you went to find Daddy? By yourself? _Wh-why?!_ ”

“...Make...Sas...happy....”

A chill ran up Sans’ spine and he felt sick to his stomach. Papyrus had seen him upset all day after all. He was there when his mood worsened after breakfast. He was next to him in the tunnel when he hit the walls in anger and frustration. Sans had tried to distance himself from his brother so he didn’t see his suffering, but Papyrus had seen it anyway. And he almost lost his life trying to help ease his older brother’s pain.

His brother suffered horrifically and nearly died because of him.

Tears of guilt and sorrow fell from Sans’ eyes. “Pap...I-I’m so sorry....”

He got up, sat on the bed, and picked up his brother, the fabric pieces falling off. He embraced Papyrus, rocking back and forth as he wept, repeating that he was sorry over and over.

Papyrus clutched his older brother weakly, his own tears from having failed his mission to help Sans feel better tumbling down his face.

Sans sat Papyrus in his lap and looked him in the eyes, tearfully.

“Papyrus, I’m sorry you saw me sad, angry, and hurt today.... I didn’t mean to make you upset or feel like you had to fix it.... I never meant for you to see me like that....”

The little skeleton’s lip quivered as his tears continued to fall.

“But nothing hurt me worse than when I couldn’t find you....”

Papyrus’ eyes grew wide. He wanted to help his brother, not hurt him.

“I thought I’d never find you out there. And when I _did_ find you, I th—” he stifled a sob. “I th-thought you were going to die. I thought I was going to lose you forever.”

Papyrus’ face fell, tears spilling. He felt terrible about worrying his brother.

“But do you know what made me happy tonight?”

Papyrus looked up suddenly, shaking his head slowly in answer.

Sans smiled at his little brother through his tears. “When you wouldn’t wake up, and when your HP was falling fast, you kept hanging on. You kept fighting it. And you woke up and came back to me. You came back to me, Papyrus. And I was so very happy.”

Sans leaned his head down, resting his forehead against Papyrus’ as he looked him in the eyes.

“You don’t need to find Daddy to make me happy. You, Papyrus... _you_ always make me happy. As long as you’re with me, I will always be happy. I might not always show it like I did today...but, Papyrus, _please_ believe me. I am so much happier because you are with me.”

Papyrus smiled sadly, then hugged his brother with what little strength he had.

Sans picked him up and embraced him tightly again, nuzzling the side of his face.

“I love you so, _so_ much, Papyrus.”

The little skeleton whispered weakly into his brother’s ear. “...Pa love Sas, too....”


	10. Chapter 10

10th Chapter!!!

===============================================

Sans groaned and shifted, feeling every bone pop. His body did not want to wake up, but his brain urged him not to fall back to sleep. He opened one of his eyes slowly.

Papyrus was still wrapped up in the fabrics—the warmth from the fire long faded—and blanketed by Sans’ blue jacket. Sans smiled, glad to see his little brother resting comfortably. He checked Papyrus’ HP.

47 HP/100 HP.

Sans breathed a deep sigh of relief. The HP Papyrus had gained from the rest of the banana he ate before he went to sleep was still there. He hadn’t lost a single HP since regaining consciousness.

Sans—completely exhausted from overexertion, emotional drain, and from staying up all night to take care of Papyrus—had fallen asleep next to his brother. He didn’t mean to—he had wanted to stay awake to keep tending to Papyrus. But with the urgency to save his brother from the brink of death gone, Sans was able to rest.

He got up carefully, making sure not to disturb Papyrus from his well-needed sleep, and stood up. He stretched his body out, cracking and popping his bones. He ached horrifically from the strenuous activity of the night before. He checked his own HP to see how the night’s sleep affected his health.

40 HP/1 HP.

There was no extra 20 HP gained from sleep since he’d lost some health out in the storm, but at least he was back to 40. He limped over to the pantry shelf and grabbed a bit of bread from the diminishing stale loaf and ate it, feeling his pain subside a little.

He went into the fire room. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep—without the sun and moon, it was impossible to judge time—but it had clearly been a long stretch of time. The water in the broken pottery was piping hot, and the hanging fabrics were extra toasty warm. The fire had barely dwindled, thankfully, so Sans didn’t need to feed it with more wood.

He took a piece of fabric and used it to protect his hand when taking the pottery off the fire basin. He placed it on the snowy floor to cool down, then took the fabrics from the racks.

After he carefully unwrapped the snoozing Papyrus, he felt his forehead and his ribcage under his tiny shirt. They were still cold, but nowhere near as frigid as they were the previous night. He wrapped him in the extra-warm fabrics, using several of them to pillow his head as he removed the haversack and put it on the floor beside the bed.

Papyrus snuggled into the warmth in his sleep while Sans smiled softly. He would let his little brother sleep as long as possible, and would feed him when he woke up to increase his HP further.

He put the fabrics on the warming racks and returned to the main room. While his brother slept, he would do a bit of work around the shelter.

First thing he needed to do was make himself some breakfast to ease more of the pain in his body. He made a roasted mushroom and cheese sandwich and ate on the floor next to the bed as he watched over Papyrus.

When he was finished, he felt much better. He grabbed the haversack and opened it, pulling out the items he had hastily stuffed in it to make a pillow for Papyrus. He put the emptied bag aside and set to re-organize the items as he sat on the floor by his brother’s side.

After some time, he had sorted the items back into piles to put away. He put the wood in the corner where the pantry boulder and snow wall met. He rolled up the pieces of parchment together in one bundle and tied it with one of the short pieces of twine, then placed it and most of the coils of twine and rope on the non-food shelf. As for the random odds and ends—including bits of broken jewelry, various pieces of metal, and several bows and ribbons—Sans bundled these up in another scrap of burlap, tying it at the top with a green ribbon so that he could tell this pouch from the one with the arrow and spear heads, and put it on the shelf. Lastly, he put the food they had found in the pantry—the sturdier fruit and vegetables in the snow “bowl” on the floor and the rest on the food shelf.

He picked up the haversack and put the longer pieces of twine and rope back in the side pockets, then hung the bag up on the bone coat rack. Now that he had finished organizing and putting away the foraged items, he felt a bit more accomplished.

The feeling was immediately replaced with utter guilt and sorrow. He had just completed the task he had abandoned the previous morning, setting into motion the terrible events from the day before. He buried his face in the haversack to stifle his sobs, desperate for Papyrus not to hear him.

He pulled himself together, urging himself to change Papyrus’ wrappings. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, went into the fire room, and took the warmed fabrics off, then brought them to the bed.

Sans knelt down and started unwrapping the cooled-down fabrics, taking care not to jostle his sleeping brother too much. Papyrus stirred, then opened his eyes slightly.

“Sorry, Pap,” Sans apologized as he finished removing the fabrics from him. “Didn’t mean to wake you up. Ready for breakfast?”

Papyrus merely laid there in the freshly warmed fabrics, too weak to be eager about food, which wasn’t like him. Sans winced sadly, even though he didn’t expect Papyrus to wake up completely healed.

Sans went into the fire room and picked up the broken pottery with the water, which had cooled down from extremely hot to warm. It had melted the snow underneath, making a small, wet indent in the floor. He put it back on the fire basin to keep warm, then went to the pantry and grabbed another banana from the shelf.

Sans sat on the bed beside his brother and peeled the banana.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Papyrus grunted weakly, slightly scrunching up his face.

“Still not great, huh...,” Sans sighed. “Are you feeling warmer?”

The little skeleton nodded slowly.

“Well, that’s good!” Sans replied with exaggerated eagerness. “That means you’ll be better in no time!”

Sans broke off a tiny piece and fed it to his brother. Papyrus chewed slowly, his eyes drooping heavily. Once he swallowed, he didn’t open his mouth for more, but instead closed his eyes, his head lolling.

“Hey, now,” Sans said, holding another small bit of banana in front of him. “You’ve got to eat, Pap. It will make you so much stronger if you do.”

Papyrus barely opened his eyes as he opened his mouth feebly.

“There you go,” Sans said soothingly. “Just a few more bites, and I’ll get you some more hot water to warm your tummy.”

Bit by bit, Sans fed Papyrus half of the banana. 

“All right!” he praised him. “Great job. Let me go get you some water, then you can rest, ok?”

Papyrus was still chewing as he nodded slowly.

Sans got up and checked the water. Feeling that it was not too hot, he brought the warm water in and sat back on the bed. He helped his weakened brother drink, sip by sip, until the piece of pottery was emptied.

“All done,” Sans grinned gently. “Now you can rest, Pap.”

The little skeleton needed no further prompting. He settled into the pile of fabrics under his head and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he was back to sleep.

Sans checked his HP.

62 HP/100 HP.

More than halfway filled. Sans felt much better, though he felt saddened that Papyrus was still not his normal self. But sleep would do him good.

Sans got up and placed more snow in the broken pottery and placed it on the fire basin. Then he took a moment to inspect the melting damage of the walls and ceiling. It still wasn’t bad, but he needed to repair it before holes started appearing.

While Papyrus slept, Sans crawled through the opening, dug out the entrance, and crawled out. The snow had deepened overnight, giving Sans plenty of building material to work with.

He started with the roof. He tossed armfuls of snow up onto one of the boulders, then climbed up onto it. He packed the snow onto the roof carefully, hoping that his repairs didn’t cause a cave in. When he was out of snow, he slid off the boulder and tossed more up on the other boulder to work on the opposite side.

Once the roof had a thick layer of snow packed onto it, Sans slid back down off the boulder and started pushing snow towards the entrance. He shoved the snow into the shelter, then went back outside to get more. After several piles of snow, he closed up the entrance and checked on Papyrus.

The little skeleton hadn’t moved an inch, sleeping soundly in the warmth of the fabrics.

Sans grabbed armful after armful of the snow, bringing it into the fireroom, until all the snow piles had been moved. He worked on the thinning walls, building them up and packing the snow in tightly. Then he leveled the floor where the water runoffs from the layers of bones above the fire had dissolved the snow around the basin. He wished he had a bucket or container to catch the precious water, but he was grateful he had found the broken pottery piece when he did. Hopefully, future foraging trips would result in something to hold and store water.

Sans finished the repairs after some time. He looked around the room to double check his work while catching his breath and wiping his brow. Satisfied, he checked on Papyrus.

He was still fast asleep. As much as Sans wished he would wake up to eat more food, he knew the sleep would be good for his weakened state. He might waken anyway, since it was time to change the fabrics.

He took the warmed fabrics from the racks, sat on the bed, and switched them over. Sans was surprised—and even a little concerned—that Papyrus didn’t even stir. Once the little skeleton was in fresh, warm fabrics, Sans sat with him a moment, stroking his brother’s head gently.

_Poor thing...,_ he thought, watching Papyrus sleep. _He’s been through so much. I can’t imagine how scared and hurt he must have been. How horrible, to have wandered in that frigid cold alone and with no way to get warm. He must have suffered so much pain before he passed out in that spot.... And all he wanted to do was help his big brother feel better...._

Sans sighed sadly, feeling guilt-ridden, as he glanced down at the pile of cooled-down fabrics next to him. His eyes focused on a small, grey scrap, almost the exact color as his haversack. He thought for a moment, came up with an idea, and put the scrap to the side. He put the rest of the fabrics on the warming racks, then went back to the bed and retrieved the scrap. He glanced at Papyrus and grinned. Then he set to work.

Papyrus crumpled his face up, rousing from his lengthy slumber. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking back the sleep. He tried to stretch out his arms, but they were pinned against his sides by the wrapped fabrics. He whimpered as he wiggled back and forth, trying to get free.

Sans heard his brother and went over to the bed, sitting down on it. Papyrus looked up at him pleadingly for release.

“Careful there, Pap,” Sans soothed. “Let me help you out.”

Sans started unwrapping the fabrics, and as soon as he was able, Papyrus freed himself. He sat up—which pleased Sans, since he hadn’t been able to do so since the morning before he almost died—and stretched his arms up in the air, yawning widely.

“Feeling better?”

Papyrus nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Nyeh.”

“Hungry?”

The little skeleton’s face broke into a grin. “Nyeh!”

_He_ must _be feeling better,_ Sans thought, smiling deep in his soul.

Sans handed him the other half of the banana, which Papyrus took in both hands and started eating. Sans went into the fire room and retrieved the warm water, then sat back on the bed next to his brother. He watched him eat the banana steadily.

“I was thinking,” Sans said. “We should take it easy the next couple days, Pap.”

Papyrus looked up from his banana, chewing a large mouthful.

“Yeah,” Sans answered his inquisitive look. “You’re still recovering, I’m still tired. I think we should stay here and rest before heading back out there.”

Papyrus swallowed, then looked at the banana in his hands sadly.

“Hey, no!” Sans said, waggling his hands. “Don’t feel bad! I think it’s good for us to just stay in! We’ve got plenty of food, the fire’s going strong, aaaand...,” he grinned wide, spreading out the word in singsong. “...that means we get to play together! Just you and me!”

Papyrus’ face lit up as he gasped for joy, almost dropping the banana. Two whole days of nothing but playing with his big brother?! Papyrus leaned over and hugged Sans excitedly.

Sans hugged his brother back, then rubbed the top of his skull gently.

“First, you’ve got to eat your banana, drink this warm water, and then we’ll start playing, ok?”

Papyrus had never focused so hard on eating food in his life.

Sans grinned, glad to have his brother back to normal.

For the next two days, the skeleton brothers rested up, while having the most fun they’d had since leaving their house that fateful day.

They played games on the snow floor with Papyrus’ tiny white bones like Tic-Tac-Bone, Pick-Up-Bones, and their favorite—Tower of Bones. The game was played by layering bones in crisscross patterns until all the bones were used up, making a tall, narrow tower. Then each brother took a turn removing a bone from the tower while trying not to topple it. Papyrus loved to watch the bones tumble, regardless of if he won or lost—Sans making sure to “accidentally” knock over the tower on his turn with his “clumsy” fingers several times, letting Papyrus win often.

When the bones fell, Papyrus always jumped up on his feet, giggling with his hands in the air. In Papyrus’ mind, any time the tower fell, both he and Sans won the game together.

“Nyeh heh heh!” he triumphantly exclaimed every time, his tiny hands on his hips, then plopped back on the floor and helped his brother rebuild the tower again.

They also played a new game Sans made up called Hide-The-Banana, where Sans would hide the last banana somewhere in the main room—the fire room was off limits for safety—while Papyrus shut his eyes, counting to ten. He giggled as he ran around the room, checking every spot until he found the banana, then held it up in the air, cheering and jumping up and down as Sans sang out “Da de daa!”

They spent hours playing with the tiny white bones like other monsters played with blocks. Sans discovered that they could use the snow to make tiny snowballs and stick the ends of the bones in them for joints, making really interesting buildings and bridges. Then Papyrus took one bone and Sans took another, pretending that they were toy figures of themselves. “They” climbed the buildings, crossed the bridges, and had all sorts of adventures.

Sans taught Papyrus how to roast food on the fire for each meal, which thrilled his little brother immensely. They sat in front of the basin, Papyrus in Sans’ lap, while Papyrus held the spear over the flame. Sans covered his brother’s little hands with his own, guiding and helping him with the spear. Sans showed him how to tell when to turn the food, how to know when it was fully roasted, and which foods cooked fast and which cooked slowly.

Papyrus proudly ate the first roasted mushroom and cheese sandwich he ever made—with Sans’ help, of course—and Sans couldn’t stop gushing to his brother how these sandwiches were way better than any sandwich he could ever make.

And at night, before bed, Sans told Papyrus bedtime stories their parents used to tell them, repeating them nearly word for word. Papyrus stayed up to hear every word, completely enthralled by the stories and the way his brother told them using funny voices for the characters and acting out several of the parts.

When the story was over, Papyrus applauded, then settled down on the haversack pillow, scooting over to give Sans room. After getting into bed beside his brother, Sans made the blue bones disappear, leaving the fire to dimly light the room. He covered themselves in the fabric and lay back, Papyrus snuggling into his arms.

“Nigh nigh, Sas,” Papyrus yawned, his eyes already closed.

Sans nuzzled into his brother’s skull gently. “Night, Pap.”

After breakfast on the third morning, Sans felt confident that Papyrus was well enough for a small foraging excursion. Papyrus had regained all his lost HP with food, and had even gained extra HP from sleeping the prior night, now being at 120 HP. It appeared that sleep on full HP really gained monsters extra, and was not just part of Sans’ strange, new condition. It was something that probably had happened to Sans and Papyrus their whole life, but they had never noticed—and being playful children getting scrapes and bruises all the time, it probably didn’t happen often enough.

Sans was extremely pleased with his own HP after two nights of great sleep. He was at 80 HP now, and felt much stronger for it. If he was careful enough, he’d surpass his old 250 HP in a few weeks.

Sans removed all but two of the warming racks, since Papyrus no longer needed the constant flow of warmed fabrics. He kept the two highest—one on each boulder—and the absence of the lower bones made getting around the fire room much easier. He wanted at least two bones for warming so they could warm up and dry out their clothes after trips outside in the snow.

Sans helped Papyrus put on his shoes as they sat on the bed. Then Sans stood up and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head.

“Ok, shoes, done. Scarf next, but first...,” he winked at his brother. “Stay right here.”

Papyrus watched curiously as Sans disappeared into the fire room, then emerged with his hands behind his back.

Sans stood in front of him, grinning widely. “Since you’re so helpful to me when we forage, you’re going to need—” he pulled out what he was hiding, holding it out, “— _this.”_

Papyrus gasped long and slowly in awe, his eyes growing wide.

It was a small shoulder bag. Sans had made it from the grey scrap of fabric. While Papyrus had been sleeping, he worked on making it for him. He had punched holes along all the edges of the fabric square with an arrowhead and threaded two long ropes through the holes—one rope circling through on one side, the other on the opposing side, so the ends of one rope were on the direct opposite side of the other—and tied the ends. When the ropes were pulled from their middles, they folded and gathered the fabric into a bag-like pouch, the ropes becoming two long straps.

He had learned the technique from his mother, who loved to show him how to craft things. Sans knew the bag wasn’t perfect because he didn’t have shears or better materials, but he was proud of it anyway.

Papyrus, completely stunned by the amazing surprise, put out a tiny hand and touched it. Sans grinned and put the rope straps over Papyrus’ shoulder. Papyrus slid off the bed slowly, gripping the rope and smoothing the bag out as it lay against his hip, his mouth unable to close in his awe. He stuck his tiny hand in the opening and felt around in the space. He picked it up to look closer, and, noticing the color, turned to Sans’ grey haversack on the bone coat hook. He pointed at it excitedly and looked up at Sans.

“That’s right,” Sans answered, smiling wide. “Just like mine.”

Papyrus hugged the precious gift—his first ever bag of his own—then hugged Sans even harder.

Sans hugged him back, nuzzling into the top of his brother’s head. “You’re welcome. I’m so glad you like it.”

Sans got his jacket, haversack, and Papyrus’ scarf off the coat hooks and wrapped the scarf on his brother, who couldn’t stop admiring his new bag. Sans put on his jacket and shouldered the haversack, then looked down at Papyrus.

“Ready?”

Papyrus nodded eagerly, clutching his bag preparedly.

Grinning, Sans rubbed the top of his brother’s head, then went through the opening to dig out the entrance, followed by Papyrus. Sans sealed the entrance with snow and stood up, wiping his hands on his jacket. Then the two skeletons went off, hand in hand, into the valley to forage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 chapters?!!? Already?!!? Where has the time gone?!
> 
> Thank you all for reading this far, for your kudos, your kind words, and for going on this amazing journey with Sans, Papyrus, and me.
> 
> I really hope you're liking the story. Even though we're at Ch 10, their story is FAR from over. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading my story, you have no idea how much I appreciate it! :D


	11. Chapter 11

Sans and Papyrus had been living in the wintery valley for a few weeks. The little shelter had become somewhat of a new home to them, although they were both eager to return to their real home back in the forest. For now, however, they enjoyed the comforts of their current abode, with its warm bed, the quaint little pantry, the cozy fire room, and the tiny open area for playing in or organizing foraged items.

They spent most of their days foraging out on the torch-lit trail. The frequent snowstorms had made it difficult to find as much as they had the first time, as the trail had filled up again and again with new-fallen snow. While their progress had slowed down more than Sans would have liked and needed to put in more effort to find items, they never returned to the shelter empty handed.

They started off at the torch Sans had broken to get the magical flame that was in their fire room. From there, they progressed down the trail with the purple walled cavern at their backs, since they had already searched that part of the trail. Searching through the deep snow that covered the path, they inched their way towards the opposite end of the valley.

Sans would always tie two blue bones on a torch with vines in an “X” to mark the spot on the trail where they had ended for the day. Not only were they easy to spot, but Sans had carved his and Papyrus’ names into both bones using an arrowhead. He hoped this would let their father know that they were somewhere in the valley if any monster ever found them.

Every few days, they would return to the cavern tunnel to search for their father. These were Papyrus’ least favorite days since it meant being cooped up in the haversack while Sans climbed up to the tunnel entrance. But Sans didn’t have a choice—he couldn’t leave his brother back in the shelter alone.

He did, however, start allowing Papyrus out of the haversack in the tunnel, even if his anxiety increased tenfold by doing so. Sans also made him tiny blue bones to play with in the dark while he looked for their father. These thrilled Papyrus, as he was too young to make glowing blue bones himself.

To Sans’ despair, the construction to convert the cavern into a purple and violet structure was proceeding rapidly. On the first day they returned since Papyrus recovered, Sans found the first set of window holes in the tunnel sealed off with purple bricks. During their next trip through the tunnel, they found the last set of window holes sealed off. This left Sans with only the tunnel opening in the enormous cavern wall. Each time they visited, there were more purple and violet bricks and less natural stone, making it harder to search for their father with buildings replacing tents.

Just as he had done on the trail, Sans created a blue bone and carved their names on it. He was desperate to leave a message for their father since he couldn’t simply ask the monsters below for help. Even though it was just a bone with their names on it, Sans hoped it would be enough to let their father know they were still alive and in the area.

Before calling it a day, after hours of scanning thousands of monsters, Sans would have Papyrus on his back in the haversack. Then, aiming at one of the large work areas against the cavern wall with wheelbarrows, tools, and bricks—ensuring that no monsters were nearby to see or get hit—Sans threw the bone as hard as he could and pelted down the tunnel before he was spotted.

It was extremely risky, because if someone had seen where the bone had come from or spotted him throwing it, they would find the opening high up in the wall, the tunnel, and the valley where it led. Then there would be search parties in the valley, and they would be found.

He would race out the tunnel, flying down bone stairs he created then immediately removed. Instead of heading to the shelter towards the left, he ran to the right, hugging the wall alongside the cavern exterior, past the giant doors, and along the cavern’s exterior wall until he reached a random stone formation far enough away from the cavern to hide behind. There he would stay, catching his breath, and, when the coast was clear, he would let Papyrus back out. They would then eat a packed dinner together—Sans keeping a close eye out for anyone following them—until the wind and snowfall erased his tracks. Then he would circle back to the shelter, giving the cavern an enormously wide berth. Even though it took several hours between leaving the tunnel and getting back to the shelter, Sans needed to take the extra precautions so that neither they nor their shelter were discovered.

It was the price Sans was willing to pay to try to contact their father.

Another week had passed, the time in the valley going quickly for the two brothers. Their food supply was also going quickly. Foraging had not been resulting in as much food as Sans hoped, especially with the snow covering the trail over time. Sans was concerned, but not overly worried. They still had enough to last them for a little while, but he started preparing less food for each meal to stretch their stock out as long as possible.

One morning, after a meager breakfast, Sans packed dinner for their cavern excursion. He wrapped an apple, a small hunk of cheese, and four shelled nuts in a scrap of burlap and tied it up with twine, then put their pitiful dinner for two in the haversack.

They left the shelter and crossed the valley towards the cavern, then Sans—with Papyrus in the haversack—created bone stairs and climbed up, entering the tunnel. He raised his hand and made the bones disappear, then created a blue bone to light the way. When he reached the bend, he let Papyrus out. Shouldering the bag, he glanced down the tunnel and froze.

“Oh no...,” Sans said, taking a few steps forward, then broke out into a run. “No, no, no, no, no....”

Papyrus ran after him, worried and confused.

Sans slowed to a stop near the end of the tunnel. The glowing blue bone in his hand lowered slowly until he dropped it with a clatter. He fell to his knees, staring ahead in disbelief. The blue-white light illuminated the purple brick wall that had sealed the tunnel’s opening.

Papyrus approached Sans cautiously, not understanding what was wrong.

“Sas...?”

Sans’ shoulders shook, then he collapsed onto his forearms and started weeping into the tunnel floor.

“Th-they blocked it...,” he sobbed, then slammed his fist on the ground angrily. “ _They blocked it!”_

Papyrus looked up at the bricks closing off the tunnel and understood—this was where Sans always looked out, and now the bricks were in the way. Papyrus looked down at his poor, sad brother, then at the blue bone at his side. The little skeleton’s eyes narrowed and he grabbed the bone. Sans noticed and looked up through tears.

“Pap,” he sniffled. “What are you—”

His eyes grew wide as he watched his little brother run at the wall with the bone raised in his hands, crying out.

_“Nyeeeeh!”_

He brought the bone down hard on the wall and a loud whack echoed in the tunnel. He began furiously pummeling the bricks, the thudding of bone against stone reverberating around them.

“Pap, no!” Sans cried out urgently, reaching a hand towards him. “Someone will hear you!”

Papyrus stopped suddenly, looking at his brother apologetically.

Sans took off the haversack urgently. “We need to get out of here before someone checks on the noise.”

Papyrus sadly climbed into the bag and Sans shouldered it. He grabbed the blue bone and ran down the tunnel. Sans took his diversionary, long route towards the right, leading away from their shelter. Sans hid behind a couple of boulders, looking out between them to make sure they weren’t being followed.

After several moments, he deemed it safe and let Papyrus out. The little skeleton climbed out, then sat on the snow. Sans could tell from his tear-streaked face that he had been crying.

“Oh, no, Pap...,” Sans said softly. “Don’t cry....”

Papyrus’ face crinkled up, then he hid in face in his hands, sobbing. Sans took him into his lap and hugged him, rocking back and forth.

“It’s ok, Pap,” he soothed. “They didn’t hear us. There’s no one coming, we’re safe.”

Papyrus calmed down to a sad sniffle as Sans rubbed his back gently.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you, I was just worried we’d be heard. I’m not mad at you, I know you were just trying to help.”

The little skeleton wiped his eyes, his bottom lip still quivering.

Sans leaned back to face him and grinned, an impressed look painted on his face. “You whacked that wall pretty hard! You almost knocked down the whole cavern! You are so strong! You sure are _boulder_ than I am.”

A giggle escaped his brother as he rubbed the tears off his face.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Sans whispered, his tone low. “I saw what they did with the wall, and it made me sad. Now I can’t look for Daddy there anymore....”

Papyrus’ face fell again.

“No, no, it’s ok!” Sans said quickly. “That just means we’ll need to find another way.”

The little skeleton nodded slowly.

“He probably wasn’t even in there, anyway,” Sans grinned sadly.

Sans hugged his brother once more, than sat him on the snow.

“Let’s have dinner, then we’ll head home in a little while,” he said, grabbing the haversack. He dug out the food bundle and opened it. He used a spearhead he had packed to cut the apple into wedges, then laid them on the piece of burlap with the cheese and nuts.

He pushed the burlap towards Papyrus. “Here you go. I have my dinner right here,” he said, patting his empty jacket pocket. “I’m going to keep watch on the other side, you stay here, eat, and guard this side.”

Papyrus nodded, picking up an apple wedge.

Sans stood up and walked around the far side of the boulders. He glanced back to make sure that Papyrus hadn’t followed or could see him, then he leaned against the large stone. He slumped to the ground and wept silently in secret, any chance to find their father in the cavern now cut off from them permanently.

Each day that followed was a foraging day, given that there was no reason to return to the cavern. Bit by bit, Sans and Papyrus progressed up the trail, sifting through the snow-covered path, searching for anything that could help them survive, especially food.

Sans used this time to be alone with his thoughts. He was trying to keep Papyrus from seeing him upset, so around his brother he was mostly grins and positivity. Here on the trail, on his hands and knees searching, he kept his head down and a short distance from his brother so he could cry unseen. He was tired of hurting Papyrus with his own suffering.

Losing the cavern tunnel entrance was heartbreaking and discouraging. Their chances of finding their father were already slim—the brick wall made them impossible. Sans had no idea how to find their father now, or how to let him know they were still alive.

It became clear that they were now alone, just the two of them. Sans’ hopes that the separation from their father was only temporary had completely diminished. He now had to plan for the long-term survival of him and his brother out here in the valley. And with dwindling food supplies, he didn’t know how much longer they would last. He barely ate anything lately, making sure his brother had enough in his already tiny portions. It was fine—Sans rarely felt hungry anymore.

Sans found another piece of rope in the snow and put it in his bag, then sat down, tired. They had covered a lot of ground today, and judging by the aches in his bones, it was getting late. He glanced over at Papyrus, who was busy digging in the snow far off from Sans. He was sure his brother was tired, too. He worked so hard for such a little skeleton.

Sans looked up at the torch he had just passed and got to his feet. He took the two blue bones with their names on them and tied them to the torch to mark their next starting point.

When he was done, he looked up at the torch, then at the trail of torches on the path they hadn’t covered yet. The torches went on past his line of sight, seeming to go on forever.

Sans squinted—he noticed that, in the distance, there was a darkness tinged with blue lights where the snow seemed to disappear, as if the valley ended suddenly. Curiosity drew Sans to it—he took a few steps down the path in its direction, his eyes wide with wonder.

_That blue light.... Could...could that be...skeletons?_

Sans found himself walking quicker.

_Daddy...? Are you there...?_

Sans broke into a sprint.

Papyrus heard the crunching sound of his brother running in the snow and stood up, turning around.

“Sas...?” he whispered, confused.

He watched Sans run further down the path, and gasped in fear. Sans was leaving him behind.

“Sas!” Papyrus called to his brother.

When Sans didn’t stop, Papyrus started running after him down the trail as fast as his little legs could. It soon became clear, however, that he would never be able to catch up, so he stopped. He watched his brother get smaller and smaller as he got further from him. He stood there, his tiny chest heaving, suddenly feeling very panicky.

Papyrus inhaled as much air as his little lungs could hold and screamed out.

“ _Saaaas!!!_ ” His piercing cry echoed throughout the valley.

It reached Sans’ ears, jolting him back to his senses. He stopped in his tracks, gasping for breath. He shook his head quickly, clearing his mind. The edge of the valley, where it met the darkness and its blue lights, was extremely far off. Why on earth did he think he could just run to it?

He turned around and saw Papyrus standing off in the distance like a small speck. He started walking back to his brother, then stopped. He turned slowly, looking again at the blue lights. He didn’t want to leave, not if his father was so close. He couldn’t turn away. That _had_ to be the blue light of skeleton bones. Was their father leaving them messages and signs like Sans was? He had to check, he had to get to those blue lights. He started running towards them again.

_“Saaas!!!”_ His brother’s voice behind him was shrill with panic. _“Don leave me!!!”_

The painful cry cut through Sans’ soul. He whipped around and watched as Papyrus collapsed onto the snow.

“Oh no.... Pap...,” he breathed, then started running towards his brother, slowly at first, his pace quickening. Soon he was sprinting back to his brother as fast as his legs could carry him, crying out to him frantically. “ _Papyrus!”_

He reached his brother, sliding into the snow next to him, throwing his arms around him. Papyrus was curled up in tears, face down in the snow.

“Papyrus, I’m sorry,” Sans gasped, completely out of breath. “I’m sorry.”

The little skeleton wept uncontrollably. “Don leave me.... Sas.... Don go way.... Sas, don leave me....”

Sans lifted him up and hugged him tightly as they both knelt in the snow. “I won’t leave you, Papyrus.... I’m right here, I’m so sorry.... I would never leave you....”

Papyrus clutched his brother tightly. Sans could feel him trembling violently.

“Don hate me, Sas... Don hate me....”

Sans’ eyes shot open and he pulled back to face his brother, holding his head in his hands.

“Papyrus...,” he whispered in shock. “Why would I _ever_ hate you...?”

The little skeleton shut his eyes tightly, unable to look his brother in the eye as he tearfully voiced the fear that had been plaguing him for a while.

“Sas hate Pa....cuz Pa not Dada.... Sas wan Dada, not Pa....”

When Sans heard this, he felt his soul tear. His body felt weak, and he slumped to sit on his legs. His mouth hung open in shock, his eyes wide as tears spilled out.

“Papyrus....” His voice barely a whisper. “D-do you... _really_ believe that...?”

His little brother nodded, burying his face in his hands as he wept bitterly.

Sans could not have felt worse than he did at that moment.

“Papyrus....”

Sans grabbed his weeping brother gently and hugged him in his lap as he whispered in his ear.

“I could _never_ hate you, Papyrus. Yes, I miss Daddy a lot, but I would _never_ want Daddy more than you. I want all three of us back together—you, me, and Daddy. I would _never_ choose Daddy over you. I love you, Papyrus. I love you so much. You are everything to me. I love you, and nothing will ever, _ever_ change that.”

Papyrus clutched his brother tightly, burying his face in his shoulder and crying hard. Sans rocked him back and forth, repeating how much he loved him over and over, as he let Papyrus cry it out.

“Pap, let’s go home,” Sans whispered at last when his brother began to calm down.

Papyrus nodded, standing up. He was still sniffling and wiped his tear-streaked face.

Sans grabbed his hands and looked up into his eyes. “Papyrus, please forgive me for _ever_ making you think I hate you.”

Papyrus nodded sadly. “Fogiv....”

“Do you believe me when I tell you I love you, and could never hate you?”

He nodded again, smiling weakly. “Yeah.... Sas don hate Pa.... Sas love Pa.....”

Sans smiled through tears. “I really, _really_ do.”

Papyrus hugged Sans as he sat in the snow. “Pa really, _really_ love Sas, too.”

Sans hugged back tightly, nuzzling into the side of his brother’s head, then stood up, wiping his eyes. He put out his hand, and Papyrus took it. Sans gave it a loving squeeze, and Papyrus looked up and grinned as he squeezed back.

The two brothers made their way back to the shelter, hand in hand, in silence.

Silence...except for the thoughts of guilt, self-hatred, and shame beating Sans viciously in his mind.


	12. Chapter 12

Sans stared at the pantry contents sadly as he breathed a deep, heaving sigh. Half a carrot, two small apples, a handful of nuts, a few sugar snap peas, and one small potato were all that remained. There were a few handfuls of dried fruit left, stored in pouches that had originally had nuts in them since they were steadily eating though those now. Sans kept the dried fruit for emergency magic replenishment. However, he would start giving them to Papyrus if they ran out of the other food.

_If_. Sans scoffed. _More like_ when _we run out of food._

The last few days of foraging had resulted in no food. He was so desperate to stretch their food supplies that he started serving small lumps of packed snow at every meal. Papyrus thought they were amazing, thinking of them as more of a frozen treat than a desperate attempt to fill empty stomachs.

Sans exclusively ate snow now, giving Papyrus the last of their food. The hunger and malnutrition decreased his HP, but a good night’s sleep returned enough health to make up for it.

Sans prepared a few thin slices of carrot, a couple nuts and an apple wedge for Papyrus’ breakfast, along with some small snowballs he had flattened out. He then encased the rest of the carrot and apple with snow so that they didn’t dry out or brown.

“Here you go, Pap,” he said, placing the food in front of his brother. “Look, I made snow pancakes this morning!”

Papyrus dug into the food gratefully. Sans started his large stack of snow “pancakes” while voicing his thoughts.

“So, I was thinking, we haven’t been finding any food on that path recently, have we?”

Papyrus shook his head sadly, his mouth full of snow.

“What if we tried to explore further today?”

The little skeleton grinned, finding the idea of exploration adventurous and fun.

Sans grinned, glad that his brother was on board. “Yeah, there’s an area I want to check out. It might have some great stuff, and even food.”

Sans didn’t mention the real reason he wanted to venture somewhere else. He wanted to reach the edge of the valley he had seen the day before. He had no idea why it was filled with darkness, but he really needed to know where those blue lights were coming from. He couldn’t get them out of his mind—it was the same blue-white light of the blue bones only skeletons could create. He desperately had to see if their father was in that darkness.

But if Papyrus knew that’s why they were going, especially after yesterday, it would hurt him again. As Sans watched his little brother munching on his food happily, he was sad that his brother could ever think he hated him.

He sighed heavily. Of course he could. From Papyrus’ view, anytime Sans looked for their father, Papyrus was ignored, left behind, and distanced from emotionally. Sans hadn’t meant to—he didn’t want his little brother to see him upset—but Papyrus only saw his big brother being cold towards him or abandoning him. Papyrus was young, but he understood a lot more than Sans realized.

_If we’re going to find Daddy,_ Sans resolved, _we need to find him together. No more trying to find him on my own._

“Almost done?” he asked, grinning.

Papyrus popped the last carrot slice into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed, then jumped up, nodding. “Nyeh!”

“Great! I’m going to pack up a few things, then we’ll go.”

Sans shoved the last bit of snow into his mouth, then got up and grabbed the empty haversack. He needed to prepare for more than the usual foraging trip. They were going further than they had gone before, so along with the ropes and twines, he packed some of the larger pieces of fabric in case they needed to camp, some food, and a cloth pouch of dried fruit. He didn’t want to pack much more than that in case they found some useful items out there.

When he was ready, they left the shelter, sealed up the entrance, then headed off through the valley on their long journey.

The two brothers made excellent progress. Since they didn’t take the torch-lit path, they saved a lot of time and distance walking straight from their shelter. Their pace was steady, as opposed to their normal inch-by-inch progression as they foraged, and Sans hoped this meant they would arrive in the darkened place sooner than he imagined. Since the trail was so far away, Sans couldn’t tell how far along they were until he noticed a dark mass ahead through the white horizon.

_That must be the edge,_ Sans thought to himself. _Just a little further._

He looked down at Papyrus, clutching his hand.

“How are you doing?” Sans asked him.

Papyrus looked up at him and grinned. “Nyeh!”

“You tired? Need to rest?”

His brother adamantly shook his head. “Nyeh.”

“Good,” Sans grinned. “We’ll be there soon.”

The darkness loomed on the horizon, dotted by several blue lights. Sans fought every urge to run towards them. Both he and Papyrus were tired, having walked for at least a couple hours now, and needed to rest before proceeding any further.

Sans kept looking at the lights longingly as he sat in the snow beside Papyrus. He tore his eyes away to glance at his brother, and blinked in shock. Papyrus was staring at him with an extremely sad expression.

“What’s wrong?” Sans asked, worriedly.

Papyrus put his tiny hand on his arm, his voice a soft, pleading whisper. “Don leave me....”

Sans gasped, his eyes growing wide. Did he recognize the place?

_No,_ Sans told himself, shaking his head. _He sees the same look on my face he keeps seeing right before I hurt him...._

Sans put his hand over Papyrus’ and smiled wide. “I’m not leaving you, Pap.”

The little skeleton didn’t seem convinced, so Sans patted on his lap, inviting his brother to sit. Papyrus crawled over his legs and Sans helped him sit so that they were both facing the edge. Sans leaned his head over Papyrus’ shoulder and stuck his arm out, pointing.

He whispered in his brother’s ear. “Pap, you see those blue lights there?”

His brother nodded.

“You know what they look like?”

Papyrus shook his head slowly.

Sans pulled his hands behind Papyrus momentarily, leaning back while his brother continued looking out at the darkened edge of the valley. Then he leaned back forward, putting his head over Papyrus’ shoulder again. He held up the glowing blue bone he created.

“This.”

Papyrus looked at the bone, then at the darkness. Then he jumped up, pointing from the blue bone in Sans’ hands to the darkness excitedly.

Sans grinned. “Yup. And you know who the only ones able to make these are, right?”

Papyrus pointed at his skull.

“That’s right. Skeletons.”

His brother gasped happily, pointing at the darkened edge of the valley.

“See?” Sans said gently. “That’s why I was so excited to see it yesterday. I wasn’t running away from you, Pap. I wanted to see what’s over there. That’s why I wanted to come here, with you, because I want you with me when we find out what those blue lights are.”

Papyrus was quiet a moment, his eyes slowly widening, realization dawning on him.

He pointed at the edge. “Dada?”

Sans’ eyebrows lifted sadly while he kept his grin on his face. “Maybe.”

Papyrus stared at the darkness for a moment, then sadly turned to his brother. “Sas leave Pa, fin Dada?”

Sans shook his head and waggled his hands urgently. “No! No, I’m not leaving you to find Daddy! I want you to help me find him, Pap.”

Papyrus’ eyes grew wide in awe. “Pa help Sas fin Dada?”

“Yeah!” Sans said, excitedly. “Do you want to help me find him?”

“Nyeh!” he answered, nodding his head happily.

“Yay!” Sans said, throwing his hands up in the air in exaggerated joy. “You’re going to help me! I’m so happy! Thank you!”

Papyrus rushed up to him, grabbed his hand, and pulled, urging him to get up. Sans complied, stood, and was dragged forward by his little brother. Sans sighed with relief, glad that his brother understood that he wasn’t going to abandon his little brother for the sake of their father.

They rushed forward towards the distant darkness with its glowing blue lights, Papyrus leading the way.

As they approached the edge of the valley, the two brothers walked slowly, staring around at the surroundings coming into view before them.

The wide, snowy valley emptied into several narrower pathways, leading to a maze of ledges and tall rocky outcrops. The white snow tapered off, the pathways dark without the reflective illumination of snow. The sounds of trickling water reached their ears, a sound they hadn’t heard in ages.

Sans came to a stop. He couldn’t keep the tears of utter disappointment from falling down his face. His mouth dropped, as did his soul.

The blue lights that he had been so eager to get to, the blue lights that had been foremost in his mind since he first saw them, the blue lights that he had been so absolutely sure were from skeleton bones...

...were bioluminescent mushrooms scattered along the ground and lucent gems studded in the walls.

Sans fell to his knees in tears, burying his face in the snow as he wept uncontrollably. Papyrus stood by him, his arms over Sans’ bent back to comfort him, unable to understand why his brother was so deeply heartbroken.

Sans laid in the snow for a while, his tears completely spent. Papyrus was sitting next to his head, rubbing his back gently. It took all the energy Sans had to rise to a sitting position.

Papyrus looked up at him sadly. “Fin Dada?”

“N-no, Pap,” Sans croaked as he wiped his eyes on his sleeves. “Daddy’s not here. There’re no bones here.”

Papyrus looked crestfallen. Sans put his hand on his shoulder and gave a weak grin.

“Hey, no, don’t be sad, Pap,” he whispered. “We don’t know that he’s _not_ in there.”

Sans didn’t know who he was trying to convince more—his brother or himself.

Papyrus hugged his brother tightly.

“Aww, just what I needed,” Sans smiled weakly, returning the hug. “Thanks, Pap.”

He looked out into the new area, his soul throbbing when he looked at the blue light sources. He tried to distract himself from his pain by focusing on the glowing mushrooms. Something about them seemed achingly familiar.

“Hey, Pap, look,” he said, pointing them out. “I think we’ve had those before.”

Sans stood up slowly then walked with Papyrus onto the strange land. They crunched through the snow until their feet met with the soft squelch of dark blue hydric soil. The change in textures felt strange to walk on.

They approached a set of mushrooms that were clustered together. Their faces reflected the blue-white glow as they crouched to examine them.

“Let’s see if they’re what I think they are,” Sans whispered to Papyrus.

He reached out and touched the blue spotted cap of the white mushroom. He gave it a quick squeeze, causing the mushroom to emit a high-pitched squeaking sound, and the glow disappeared. They looked up at each other, grinning.

“It is!” Sans exclaimed. “It’s a mouseshroom nightlight!”

The mouseshroom nightlight was a type of mushroom their mother would get on rare occasions from a friend of hers who explored caves. Their mother told them that, according to skeletal legend, an ancient skeleton left one of his glowing blue bones behind in a cave, and, over time, it was buried in the ground. White mushrooms with blue markings—the two colors of skeleton bones—grew in that very spot and, just like the blue bones of a skeleton, were able to glow. Their spores spread through the cave and more grew until the cave was filled with them. They were discovered by other skeletons, who took them for food, allowing the spores to spread beyond that first cave.

They got their name from the sound they made when the cap was squeezed. The sound of forced air vibrating through the tough, rubbery gills made a sound similar to a mouse’s squeak, and since squeezing turned the glow on and off, it was given the name “mouseshroom nightlight.”

Of all the mushrooms in the world to come across, Sans couldn’t believe they had found these. They weren’t the skeleton bones he had hoped to find, but these were certainly close. Sans pushed away his painful disappointment, choosing to view the discovery of the mushrooms with their skeletal roots as a sign that their father had been through this area. Perhaps he had even spread their spores here as a sign for his sons to find, just as Sans had left him blue bones with their names on it. Why else would they be inside this mountain, of all places? Even though they didn’t find their father yet, Sans refused to give up hope, and put the heartbreaking setback aside in his mind.

Sans looked up into Papyrus’ face, who was smiling happily. Sans grinned while he squeezed the mushroom continuously, causing it to squeak over and over rapidly, the glow flashing on and off. Papyrus giggled uncontrollably at the funny sounds and light show. Sans, himself, started laughing at the squeals both the mushroom and his brother were making.

At last, Sans stopped and they both struggled to catch their breath from laughing so hard.

“Well, Pap,” Sans said, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. “Looks like we found some food.”

They went around collecting mouseshroom nightlights, giggling every time they heard a squeak when they picked them up.

After the two brothers stuffed their bags full with the mushrooms, they made the long trek back to their shelter. They stopped to rest only once, eager to get back to prepare the mushrooms for dinner.

When they arrived a few hours later, Sans helped Papyrus roast them over the magical flame, and they were soon enjoying a delicious dinner of roasted mouseshroom nightlights, carrot slices, and a few mixed nuts, with snowballs for desert—at Papyrus’ request. It was their first proper meal in a long time, and they savored every bite of the meaty delicacy and crunchy side dishes.

Sans filled the pantry shelf with the white and blue mushrooms—turning their glow off—and sighed happily at the sight of a stocked pantry again.

They got ready for bed, deciding to have an early night since they were exhausted after all the walking they did. They climbed into bed with heavy eyelids and full tummies as Sans pulled up the fabrics to cover them. They said their goodnights to each other, then Sans reached over and squeezed the mouseshroom nightlight by the bed that was lighting the room. The glow turned off with a squeak, sending Sans and Papyrus into a fit of giggles as they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mouseshroom (pronounced "mouse shroom") nightlights are one of my favorite mini-headcanons. Making the skeletal legend origin for them seemed extremely natural given their appearance, color, and ability to give off light. The connection between these mushrooms and skeletons was far too big to pass up.


	13. Chapter 13

Sans stood in front of the entrance of the shelter, eyes panning the area before him. They had just returned from foraging the torch-lit trail. His haversack was on their bed inside, the foraged items still stowed in it. He would sort through them later.

Sans had made sure they left right after breakfast to forage. He had something in mind for later that afternoon that he had been wanting to do for some time. When he had found a suitable spot, he went back into the shelter.

Papyrus was sitting on the bed, still dressed in his scarf and bag, patiently waiting for his brother.

“Hey, Pap,” Sans said, poking his head through the opening. “Why don’t you take off your bag and come out here with me?”

Papyrus raised a tiny eyebrow curiously, then pulled the rope strap over his head, leaving his bag on the bed. He crawled through the opening to join his brother.

Sans led his brother over to another boulder grouping further away from the cavern than their shelter. Turning back briefly to make sure they couldn’t be seen out in the open from the purple door’s view, Sans halted. He looked into his brother’s face, grinning broadly, his eyes gentle. He took a deep breath and exhaled before speaking.

“I think it’s time to show you how to make blue bones, Pap.”

Papyrus’ eyes grew wide, his mouth falling open as a soft gasp filled his lungs.

Learning how to create blue bones was an important moment in a young skeleton’s life. Usually a skeleton’s parents would teach them this vital life skill, but since their mother had passed and their father was still missing, Sans would have to be the one to teach him. Sans couldn’t help feeling sad that Papyrus would not be able to share this moment with their parents. However, it was a skill that would be extremely useful given their unusual situation.

“Ok, first thing you need to know,” Sans said, holding up a finger, “is that there are three different kinds of blue bones. There’s the regular blue bone, the hand weapon, and the free-hand bone.”

Papyrus nodded unblinkingly, taking it all in.

“I’m going to show you how to make the regular blue bone. The hand weapon is for when you’re much older because that means learning how to make sharp and pointy bones, which _I_ don’t even know how to make yet.”

Sans’ grin faltered slightly, knowing that he would miss out on his parents showing him _his_ next life skill. He shook his head, pushing away his sadness.

“And the free-hand blue bone is difficult to create since they are made in the air and ground, so they need strong magic. You don’t make them in your hands like you do with regular blue bones and hand weapons. All white bones are free-hand and are a lot easier to make because they don’t need as much magic and skill to create. You’ve even made some yourself—your bone toys we play with. But free-hand blue bones are dangerous weapons, _never_ to be used as toys.”

Papyrus continued nodding, his eyes shining in awe.

“The second thing you need to know is that blue bones are _very_ different from white bones. White bones are just normal bones—they’re always solid and they don’t light up. But blue bones have a strong magic in them, which is why they glow. Their magic is special, so they require a lot more magic to create and even use. Regular blue bones and hand weapon bones are also solid bones, but free-hand blue bones are not—they are pure magic. If you shot off a free-hand blue bone at someone, it would _go right through them._ ”

Papyrus stood, wide-eyed, as Sans made a motion with his hand indicating a bone going through his stomach.

“If anyone is moving, a free-hand blue bone will hurt them as it passes through them. It won’t hurt someone who is staying perfectly still, though. That’s the strange part. But if you’re in a fight, then your opponent is _always_ moving.”

Papyrus narrowed his eyes and held up his fists, ready to go to battle.

Sans waggled his hands. “No, no, no, I’m not teaching you to fight yet. I’m telling you all this because when you learn to create blue bones, you have to understand how dangerous they can be and the responsibility it takes to create and use them. These are special bones with special rules. They take a lot of magic, and should never be made unless you really need them. And, no matter how angry or scared you get, you can _not_ shoot out free-hand blue bones unless it’s at an enemy, because it’s extremely dangerous. Understand?”

Papyrus eased up his face and posture from battle mode to learning mode and nodded.

“Good. You could really hurt someone with them by accident if you lose control of your magic in fear or anger. It’s hard to make them when you want to, but extreme emotions can boost your magic for just a moment, making it possible to accidentally fire them off. That’s why you have to be old enough before you learn to make _any_ blue bones.”

Sans thought of the time his brother hit him in the jaw out of anger in the cavern hole, almost killing him because of his low HP. He knew his brother would never intentionally hurt him...but accidents _could_ happen.

However, Sans trusted Papyrus. He had learned after that incident and had been very careful not to hurt his older brother after seeing what he had done to him. Papyrus had grown up a lot since that day. Sans was amazed at how much older he seemed since the time before the cavern, but he knew that they both had been forced to grow up quicker than they should have in order to survive together. Sans was confident that his brother was ready for this next step. The benefits certainly outweighed the risks involved.

“Ok, and the last thing you need to know is that it takes concentration. This is the hardest part. You have to picture it, focus on it, and form it with your soul. Like this....”

Sans tapped on his skull with his fingertip. “Picture the bone in your mind. See it, what shape it is, how big it is, how bright it is....”

He clasped his hands together. “Focus on that image. Keep looking at it in your mind, imagine the feel of it, the weight of it....”

Then he slowly pulled his hands apart, a blue bone forming between his palms. “Form it with your soul. Feel the tingling in your ribcage, summon the magic within you, let it flow out from your hands....”

Sans held the blue bone out in his right hand to show Papyrus, who was standing there, mouth agape as the bone illuminated his face. He’d seen his brother make blue bones a thousand times, but this was the first time he ever really _watched_ him create one so closely.

Sans held up his left hand and made the bone disappear. “Now, it will take a lot of practice before you can make your first one, so don’t feel bad. It took me ages to make a big one like that. But you’ll be making them in no time. You ready?”

Papyrus narrowed his eyes again, nodding firmly.

“Ok, close your eyes.”

He shut his tiny eyes tightly.

“Picture a small bone. The same size as the ones you have that we play with. See it?”

He nodded with eyes still shut.

“Look at the shape, the size, the brightness. Do you see it?”

He whispered softly, nodding. “Nyeh....”

“Open your eyes, and put your hands together.”

Papyrus opened his eyes and clapped his hands together, clutching them tightly.

“Ok, now, keep the bone in your mind, Pap. Start pulling your hands apart, slowly.”

The little skeleton moved his hands apart achingly slow, staring at the gap between them. He frowned in disappointment when nothing happened.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Sans said encouragingly. “I didn’t get it the first time either. Try again.”

He repeated the process as his brother coached him step by step. When he pulled his hands apart the second time, there was still nothing.

Papyrus looked at his hands sadly, his lower lip quivering. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t able to make them as easily as his brother could. His hands fell to his side as he whimpered in discouragement.

Sans bent down, bringing his face close to his brother’s, and put his hands on Papyrus’ tiny shoulders. He smiled gently as he spoke in a low, firm tone.

“Papyrus, don’t give up. This is hard. _Really_ hard. It’s difficult magic for little skeletons. But keep practicing. Keep at it. Don’t give up. Don’t lose hope. You _can_ do this, and you _will_ do this. If not today, then tomorrow, or the next day. But you _will_ be able to do it. I believe in you, Papyrus. Don’t give up, because I believe in you.”

Papyrus looked into his brother’s eyes, seeing the faith Sans had in him. His brother’s powerful words seeped into his soul, washing away all the discouragement and self-doubt from Papyrus’ mind. The little skeleton narrowed his eyes and nodded as Sans stood back up.

They started from the beginning once more, and as Papyrus was pulling his hands apart, a flickering blue glow formed between his palms. He gasped softly, looking up at Sans in astonishment.

“You’re doing it!” Sans exclaimed excitedly, his eyes wide. “You’re doing it, Pap! Keep forming!”

Papyrus inched his hands apart, the bone growing in length as his face furrowed in concentration, his teeth clenched. The epiphyses formed on either end, and in his hand was a tiny blue bone, glowing softly in his palm. He stared at it in shock.

Sans jumped up and down, waving his arms in the air. “You did it! _You did it!”_

Papyrus couldn’t believe it. He didn’t dare move his hand, afraid the bone would disappear.

“I di it...?” he breathed.

Sans picked him up and hugged him in the air, his brother’s legs swinging back and forth. “You did it! I’m so proud of you!”

He set his stunned brother back on the ground. Papyrus clutched the little bone in his hand, feeling it with his other hand to ensure it was an actual bone. Realizing what he had done, he looked up at his brother excitedly.

“I di it! _I di it!”_

“You did it, Pap!” Sans beamed proudly. “I knew you could do it!”

Papyrus thrust the tiny blue bone into the air triumphantly. _“Nyeh heh heh!”_

A celebration dinner was in order. Sans prepared mouseshroom nightlights and helped Papyrus roast them over the fire. Sans served them with a sugar snap pea for each of them, a couple nuts apiece, and, for dessert, special bone-shaped snow treats.

They ate on the floor at a “table” they had built out of packed snow. Papyrus’ blue bone was the centerpiece. Throughout the meal, Sans could not contain his pride.

“I can’t believe you did it after just a few tries, Pap,” he said, tearing a piece of roasted mushroom and popping it in his mouth. “Actually, no, I _can_ believe it. You’ve always been amazing! It took me several days before I made a tiny blue nub of a bone, and you made a perfect, whole bone on your first day of practice!”

Papyrus’ cheeks flushed pink as he munched on his mushroom, smiling shyly.

“It’s so beautifully formed! It’s like you’ve been doing this for years!” He raised an eyebrow in mock suspicion. “Pap...have you been making these when I wasn’t looking?”

Papyrus giggled as he shook his head.

“I’m going to have to retire and let _you_ make all the blue bones now! You’re a _bone_ -afide expert!”

His brother fell into a giggle fit. Sans grinned and continued.

“No _bones_ about it! You’re better than I am!”

Papyrus could not stop laughing.

Sans held up the tiny blue bone. “You get _bone_ -us points for this one, though. It’s perfect!”

Papyrus couldn’t even breathe he was giggling so hard. His brother mercifully stopped so he could catch his breath and recuperate. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves from the tears of laughter.

Sans smiled gently, happy to see Papyrus in such a good mood. He extremely proud of his brother—he could not believe how quickly he had learned.

“We should really practice more,” Sans said, thoughtfully, as they resumed eating. “We both need to get better at our magic, especially since we still don’t know what’s out there....”

Sans thought of the area past the valley’s edge, with its glowing mouseshroom nightlights and gems. Unlike the valley, it had an enveloping darkness that concerned Sans. It was easy to spot someone in the distance against the white snow—even through the constant snowfall—but that was not the case with the darkened area.

This was one of the reasons he wanted to teach Papyrus how to make his own blue bones. They had foraged through the torch-lit trail for so long, they were near the darkened area. Sans had noticed that the torches continued on through it, and they appeared to be closer together than they were in the valley, leading Sans to believe that his concerns about the darkness were valid.

There were many sources of light in the part they had explored that one time, but they hadn’t returned since finding the mushrooms. This was due to the fact that they had enough to last them a while, but also because Sans wanted to finish foraging the trail to find as many items the monsters had dropped as they could. So they hadn’t explored the other parts of the darkened area, yet. There might not be as many mushrooms and gems in other parts, so blue bones would be important to light their way.

He also knew that it was important for Papyrus to start learning to make blue bones in case they ever got separated. It was a thought that made him shudder, but Sans would rather Papyrus be prepared than lost in the darkness alone.

Sans also wanted to start practicing his own bone magic because he needed to learn how to make hand weapons. He knew it would be difficult without someone to show him how to do it, but he was going to have to try to figure it out on his own. It would be nice to have skewers instead of spears for cooking and knives instead of a spearhead to prepare food.

But, more importantly, he needed to learn how to make sharpened bones to protect Papyrus if they ever came across humans. It wasn’t too hard to notice that the other monsters had traveled from the far side of the mountain and barricaded themselves in the cavern, building stone walls from magic bricks—which were far stronger than natural rock and stone—and had not left since they arrived. Sans was grateful that they remained in the cavern this long, since that meant he and Papyrus were able to remain in the valley without being caught and separated from each other. But Sans couldn’t help but wonder why the monsters walled themselves in, or, more importantly, _who_ they were keeping _out._

Sans shuddered again. They had lived in the valley for so long he had lost track, but in that time, he had seen no trace of humans. That might not be the case for the rest of the mountain. Skeletons could handle frigid temperatures better than monsters and humans, but what was to stop the humans from camping out in the darkened area? Or infiltrating the valley one day to attack the cavern? Sans felt a shiver run up his spine. There were nights he woke up in a panic from nightmares of humans invading their shelter, grabbing his brother from their bed, and....

Sans shook his head sharply. He wasn’t going to focus on his fears and worries. Not tonight. He settled on spending more time to work on their bone magic in the coming days, and then he was done thinking about it for now. He continued eating, glad that Papyrus was too focused on his bone-shaped snow treats to notice that he had zoned out.

After dinner, Sans and Papyrus played Tower of Bones on the little snow table until it was time for bed. As Papyrus put the tiny bones away, Sans made a thin white bone from the ground and stuck it into the snow wall next to their bed like a nail. He had retrieved a small, dark blue ribbon from the little burlap pouch on the shelf earlier and tied it around Papyrus’ blue bone, forming a small loop. He hung the blue bone up on the white bone on the wall as Papyrus watched, gasping softly.

Sans stood back and looked to make sure it was even, then turned to Papyrus.

“What do you think?”

Papyrus rushed over and hugged his brother. “Fanks Sas!”

Sans laughed softly, rubbing the top of his brother’s head gently. “You’re welcome, Pap.”

They settled into bed and Sans raised his left hand to make his blue bones around the room disappear. Papyrus’ tiny blue bone glowed in the fire-lit dimness, its blue-white light soft enough for them to sleep.

They sat on their backs staring up at the bone, Papyrus nestled in the crook of Sans’ arm. Sans tilted his head and nuzzled the top of his brother’s skull with his cheekbone.

“I’m so proud of you, Papyrus,” he whispered softly.

Papyrus hummed happily in response. Then he turned on his side and slowly fell asleep against his brother.

Sans kept staring at the bone for a while until he, too, felt sleep approach.

“Mommy would have been so proud of you, too....”

Sans felt the tears fall down the side of his face. He wiped his eyes on the fabric and shut them, falling into slumber under the glow of his brother’s first blue bone. 


	14. Chapter 14

The wind swept the snow into curling currents, giving the snowflakes a gentle ride down before they hit the ground. The air was brisk, filled with the soft _whooshes_ of wind throughout the valley.

For Sans, all he could hear were the crunching footsteps of him and his brother, the slow panting of breath from mild exertion, and the faint jingle of metal coming from the haversack and his jacket.

Sans looked up from the infinite whiteness that was the ground. Their grouping of boulders was still a long way off. He heaved a groaning, weary sigh and continued trudging through the deep snow.

Days of foraging had turned to weeks. The further they progressed down the torch-lit path each day, the further the walk home was. Sans was no longer sure if the time it took for them to walk to and from the trail was worth the items that partially filled their mostly-empty bags.

Sans looked down at his brother. Papyrus matched his brother’s pace, panting just as steadily, but never complaining. Sans gave his brother’s hand a loving squeeze, which Papyrus returned, smiling up at his grinning brother.

Sans looked forward, willing the shelter to come closer to them as he kept going forward. The distance they were walking was becoming more and more unbearable each day. He knew that they would need a new plan for foraging. He was just at a loss for what it could be.

One solution was to build another shelter closer to the new area. While it seemed logical to move near the edge of the valley, Sans had many reasons why he was reluctant. The effort, time, and resources to build the shelter and shift their supplies to it would take away from their foraging progress. He also wasn’t sure how safe the area near the edge of the valley was. It was one thing to forage near the darkness; it was another issue entirely to live there.

But the biggest reason Sans pushed the idea off the table was because their shelter had become a little home to them. It wasn’t the temporary snow fort they had built, but a place of comfort, warmth, and as close to normalcy as they could get. It wouldn’t be fair to Papyrus to lose yet another place they called home in such short time. And Sans didn’t want that kind of change, either.

Not yet, at least. Sans understood that they would outgrow it one day. But part of him secretly hoped that they wouldn’t ever need to look for the “next place” since they would find their father before then. Sans sighed deeply once again.

Another solution was to stop foraging near the darkness. As tempting as it was to never have to walk an infinite number of steps each day, Sans knew they needed to forage to survive. They found a few bits of food every once in a while. Admittedly, more often than not, they found food too spoiled or rotten to salvage, but they still found edible food here and there.

He had toyed with the thought of foraging elsewhere, closer to their shelter. But he dismissed the idea, knowing that nothing could grow on the inside of a mountain in the middle of a snowy valley. Their best chance at finding anything was on the trail that thousands of monsters had walked over.

Sans ran the hand not holding Papyrus’ over his skull, wiping snowflakes and frustration away. He needed to come up with an idea, but he was far too tired and discouraged to think it out logically.

So he continued on, listening to the repetitive sounds of his footsteps, breathing, and jingling metal, trying to think of them as relaxing, not daunting.

As soon as he sealed up the entrance, Sans crawled through the opening, unshouldered the haversack, and flopped on the floor onto his stomach, exhausted. Papyrus climbed up on the bed, took his shoes and scarf off, and laid down, equally tired. Sans looked up at Papyrus, not even bothering to move his head, and envied his brother’s energy to be able to make it to the bed.

Sans would make dinner in a moment. He just needed to rest his eyes for a second. Let the feeling in his legs return to him.

He closed his eyes, and in the next instant, he was waking up from a deep sleep.

“Oops,” he murmured, slowly picking himself up off the floor.

Fortunately, with no sun or moon, there was no way to tell time inside the mountain, so he figured he had only _slightly_ nodded off. However, the stiffness in his bones and the wooziness in his head told him that he’d been asleep for several hours.

He stood up and stretched, listening to the popping and cracking of his weary bones, and glanced over at the bed. Papyrus was fast asleep under a few bits of fabric.

Sans laughed under his breath at the sight of his brother. _Looks like I’m not the only one who was tired._

He took off his jacket, hung it up on the “coat hook” near the bed, and wearily walked over to the pantry to plan out their meal from their pitiful food stock. He pulled down a couple mouseshroom nightlights and two nuts, putting them aside for when his brother eventually woke up. In the meantime, he would make some sort of dessert from snow to fill their stomachs, knowing full-well that Papyrus adored them.

Sans looked down at the area against the pantry wall where he had been piling snow to make “food” from. It had been depleted, which meant he would need to get some more.

He glanced over at his brother, making sure he was still asleep, and headed outside. He didn’t bother putting on his jacket since he was only going to grab an armful of snow.

After crawling out the entrance, he stood up and looked around for some untouched snow. He always made sure to collect snow a small distance away from their shelter, taking from a different spot each time so that the snowfall could fill them back in completely. Even though he hadn’t seen anyone out in the valley, he didn’t want to take any chances and betray their location.

He saw an area of snow off to the side and headed over to it, limping slightly. He was still sore and stiff from earlier, despite having slept. He thought about the following morning’s foraging and felt the dread that was becoming familiar to him. Perhaps he’d bring some extra supplies and blankets with them tomorrow and set up a tiny snow tent for them to spend a night or two.

There was a spot he _really_ wanted to check out in the darkened area that he had seen off in the distance from where they were currently foraging from. It was hard to tell, but it looked like there was a patch of swaying plants that he hoped might be edible or, at the very least, useful somehow.

Sans shut his eyes and groaned as he continued walking. They would need to leave early, right after breakfast again, to walk the two or three hours to get there. Why didn’t he think of camping overnight this morning? He had even seen a good spot behind a stone formation that would be perfect to set up camp. He pictured the formation in his mind, imagining up a design for a quick snow shelter.

Suddenly, he heard a deafening _fwoosh_ , accompanied by a fierce blast of wind, making him gasp sharply. His eyes shot open and he froze.

The stone formation he was just thinking about was now in front of him a short distance away. He could see the darkened area looming ahead, dotted with its blue lights. The torch nearby illuminated the place where they had finished digging through in the snow-filled trail. The “X” of blue bones hung on the torch where he had tied it several hours earlier.

Short gasps of fear filled his lungs as his eyes grew wide.

“Wh-wh-wha...?!”

He whipped around to look behind him. The shelter was nowhere to be seen, even though he had just left it a few moments ago.

Sans started to panic. He grabbed the sides of his skull, hyperventilating.

_I’m back on the trail! How did I get here?! What’s happening?!_

He slumped to his knees and sat on the back of his legs, his eyes darting around frantically. He struggled to regain control of his breathing. He took several deep breaths, filling and emptying his lungs desperately. A thought sent a sickening jolt to his stomach.

_Papyrus! He’s alone back in the shelter! It will take me_ hours _to get back to him!_

Thinking of his brother made his breath catch in the back of his throat as a distant memory came into view.

“Th-this happened before...,” Sans whispered out loud to no one.

He let go of his skull and lowered his hands to look at them.

“I-I was...I was carrying him.... He was dying, and I was carrying him.... I was lost.... W-we were in the middle of nowhere.... Then we were at the shelter....”

Sans buried his face in his hands, struggling to remember.

“That sound.... _That sound_ —it was the same.... And that gust...it was there, too....”

The terror that had engulfed him ebbed away as he tried to make sense of what had happened. His breathing slowed as his mind raced.

He shut his eyes tight. He had pushed that horrific day away from his mind several times. It was too painful to remember his limp brother in his arms, his health dropping with each step, and how it was his fault that he had almost lost him forever. Now he struggled to pull those memories back.

_What was I doing when it happened...?_

Panicking as he clutched his dying brother in his arms, wrapped up in his jacket. Trying to keep going through the relentless snowstorm that froze him to the core. Struggling to take step after step through the deep snow and severe exhaustion. Wishing he was back at the shelter before his brother died in his arms.

“Wait...,” Sans breathed, lifting his head up and staring into space.

He replayed that painful moment in his head. He knew he was too far from the shelter and wouldn’t make it in time. He didn’t see the shelter or the cavern, and the realization that his brother was going to die pierced his soul.

Sans shut his eyes again tightly and clenched his teeth. He didn’t want to relive this, especially after trying to bury it down in his mind for so long. But he knew he had to understand how he had ended up at the shelter then, and on the torch-lit trail now.

He tried to ignore the feelings of the incident, focusing instead on the facts.

He was carrying Papyrus, so his left hand wasn’t free to cast magic. He was walking through deep snow, but didn’t feel anything different with his steps, like falling in a strange hole or flying. He heard the loud sound, but he’d never heard anything like it to compare it to. He felt the sharp wind blast into him, harder and faster than the worst winds of the snowstorm. He saw....

Sans opened his eyes again and blinked.

He didn’t see anything.

He didn’t see anything because his eyes were closed. Both times.

_Ok... I had my eyes closed.... Then what...?_

He was crying. He was pushing himself to keep going. He was trying to figure out which direction to head towards. He was trying to remember if there were any landmarks other than the cavern near the shelter. He was—

“—picturing it.” Sans breathed softly. “I was picturing the area near the shelter, then I was there. And I was picturing this area, and now I’m here. I was _picturing_ them.”

He clutched his shirt over his soul with both hands, his mouth slowly forming a smile.

“It’s _me_ ,” he whispered. “ _I_ did it. Somehow, some way, I did it.”

He laughed under his breath, recalling the very first blue bone lesson he had given Papyrus a couple weeks ago. “It’s just like making bones. Picture it and do it.”

Sans stood up, his fear replaced by awe. He felt more in control now that he realized that he had something to do with the mysterious transportations.

“This must be some sort of skeleton magic Mommy and Daddy never told me about....”

He balled up his fists as his eyes narrowed, a triumphant grin slowly growing on his face.

“Ok...,” he said under his breath. “Let’s try this new magic out, then.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled, closing his eyes. He pictured the area right outside the shelter. After holding the image in his mind for a while, he opened one eye.

He was still on the torch-lit path.

Sans opened the other eye and frowned. There appeared to be more to casting this new magic than he thought. He ran his hand over his mouth, deep in thought.

_I’m missing something.... Ok, so, I don’t magically go somewhere every time I picture places. I get that. Otherwise, I’d know I could do this already. So, what’s different...?_

He considered both scenarios, trying to find the commonalities between them both. He smacked his forehead suddenly.

“Of course! When I was picturing the places, I was thinking that I _really_ wanted to be there! I wasn’t just seeing them in my thoughts. That makes sense.”

He cricked his neck, ready to try again, this time saying in his mind that he really wanted to be back at the shelter. After picturing and repeating his desire for a few moments, he opened his eyes again. It still hadn’t worked.

His shoulders and face drooped, crestfallen.

“Oh, come on,” he whimpered sadly. “I was so sure I had that right....”

A slight panic started to creep back in. He had been gone a while, and Papyrus might already be awake. It would take Sans a few hours to walk back—what if Papyrus left the shelter and wandered through the valley again, this time in search of his brother?

Sans shook his head, determined to figure this new magic out and get back to his brother. He started pacing back and forth nervously, rubbing his upper arms in anxiety and from the cold—he wished he hadn’t left his jacket back at the shelter. He stared at the snow at his feet as he ran through the steps in his mind again.

“Ok, my eyes were shut,” he murmured as he paced, performing each step as he recited them. “I pictured it, I thought about how much I wanted to be there—"

The deafening _fwoosh_ filled his ears and the harsh wind whipped at him, causing him to flinch. He opened one eye cautiously.

The shelter stood before him, nestled in between the boulder grouping. The entrance was still open, awaiting his return from the short trip to get snow.

Sans jumped up, flailing his arms at his success. “ _Yes!_ ”

He now understood that the final step was indeed _taking_ a step. Each time, he had been walking when the phenomenon occurred. He now knew what was required to cast this new magic of his.

He quickly crawled in the shelter, poking his head through the opening. He sighed deeply in relief—Papyrus was still asleep on the bed, completely unaware of his brother’s absence.

Sans crawled back outside, trembling with excitement over this amazing new discovery. This was a complete game changer. He could go anywhere instantly, and he knew from the first time that it happened that he could take Papyrus with him when he cast this magic. They would never have to walk for hours to forage again!

Sans eagerly needed to know if he could go outside of the valley, or if this magic had a limited reach like his bone magic did.

He tried the place in the darkened area where they had found the mouseshroom nightlights—and succeeded. He stood in the blue glow, laughing in astonishment.

Next, he tried to go to the area that had the swaying plants that he had seen from afar, but he merely stayed where he was. Sans understood this to mean that he couldn’t travel to where he had never physically been to.

He racked his brain for locations.

The cavern? No, he couldn’t chance anyone seeing him appear out of thin air and capturing him. Besides, the last time he was on the cavern floor, it was in its natural state. It had been built up by the monsters so much, he wasn’t sure it would work if he tried.

The cavern tunnel, however, was somewhere that hadn’t been altered by monsters. Going there would also be a test to see if he could go into places that weren’t out in the open.

Within a matter of seconds, he was in pitch darkness. He created a blue bone, which illuminated the tunnel walls and the purple bricks sealing off the entrance to the cavern. Another success.

He made the blue bone disappear as his mind wandered in the darkness. The last time he was here, he was horribly upset with the sealing of the tunnel entrance. It cut them off from finding their father if he was in the giant cavern with the other monsters.

Thinking of his father sparked an idea in Sans. If he could go anywhere with his new magic, why couldn’t he go back to their house? He started trembling with joy at the thought of returning to their home. It was a bittersweet feeling, since the last time they were in their house, their mother was alive. But they would have food, safety, and could plan a way to find their father in the comfort of their own home. Their father might even be there waiting for them this whole time—what if he had been locked out of the mountain like their mother had been?

Sans wondered if his magic could reach that far, but rationalized that, like before, if his magic was unable to bring him somewhere, he would just stay put. He shut his eyes as his heart raced with emotion, and pictured the leaf-strewn path that led to their little wooden house. It had been so long since he’d seen it, but he could picture it in his mind, clear as day. He told himself in his mind how desperately he wanted to be there, and stepped forward. He welcomed the deafening sound and intense wind that surrounded him.

Sans slammed into the magical barrier at the cave entrance with breakneck speed. The damage inflicted upon him happened instantaneously—his skull cracked in several places, numerous bones in his arms and left leg broke, snapped, and fractured, and every rib in his chest shattered. His broken body dropped to the ground immediately after the impact.

At that exact moment, Papyrus woke up with a jolt, gasping sharply, as if waking from a horrific nightmare.

“ _Sas!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The narrative during Sans' recollection of the time Papyrus went missing (Ch 9) might seem confusing, but that's on purpose.
> 
> The event was so traumatic to Sans that he force-repressed it. Memories are sometimes repressed by our own brains without us knowing (these are usually complete repressions), or we can repress it partially (partial repression), knowing an incident happened but forcing details out of our minds that are too difficult. 
> 
> Sometimes, when repressed memories (complete or partial) come to light (involuntarily or during a therapeutic session), the event happens as if in the present time. It's confusing for the individual, which is why it is meant to throw off the reader in the same sort of confusion. He isn't just thinking about the memory--he is experiencing the aspects of it as it was happening in real time. 
> 
> I hope that clarifies any confusion in reading that portion of the narrative, and helps give a glimpse of what it's like to experience repressed memory recall. This by no means is a full explanation of repressed memory, merely a tiny portion of it. All I can say is that what Sans experienced came from personal experience.


	15. Chapter 15

Papyrus sat on the bed, his hands still pressed firmly against the mat, holding himself up. He was shaking in absolute terror. He was breathing heavily, each exhale tinged with the sounds of panic. His head jerked sharply around the room, his eyes darting frantically as he searched for his brother.

Aside from the sounds of fear coming from the little skeleton, the shelter was eerily silent. The fire crackled gently in the other room. The howls of the wind echoed through the shelter’s opening.

The room was freezing. Any heat generated from the magical fire had been lost, replaced by the frigid winds that swept in through the open entrance.

The wintry chill was nothing compared to the chill that ran through his body. He raised his hands and clutched at his chest over his soul. It hurt, as if something devastating happened.

Papyrus gripped his chest tighter. The last time his soul hurt like this, he could feel his mother slip away. Now, he felt Sans slipping from his soul.

Panic tore at his heart. He needed to find his brother. Now.

He leaned over the side of the bed and reached for his shoes with trembling fingers. He sat back up and fumbled as he tried to put them on, fear and frustration making it worse. His brother had always helped him with his shoes because he still too young to do it himself yet. At last he succeeded in getting his feet inside them, glad that he hadn’t untied the laces when he had pulled them off.

He jumped off the bed and grabbed his scarf from the foot of it. As he hastily wrapped it around his neck, he glanced up at his brother’s blue jacket, still hanging on the coat hook. He whimpered at the sight of it. Why did he leave without his jacket?

Papyrus quickly crawled outside and looked around, desperately seeking any sign of his brother. The snowfall was gentle enough that he could see for miles throughout the valley. He didn’t see his brother _anywhere._

Fear gripped his heart as he started breathing heavily in terror. Hot tears spilled down his face as he panicked, not knowing what to do. He looked down at his feet and spotted fresh footprints leading from the shelter’s entrance and gasped.

Knowing the footprints would lead him to his brother, Papyrus felt a twinge of joy, and ran through their trail in the snow. All he had to do was follow his brother’s prints and he’d find him. He kept his eyes trained on them, not daring to look away.

Papyrus came to a stop so abruptly he almost fell over into the snow. His brother’s footprints suddenly ended. The little skeleton started panting as the terror gripped him once again. He looked around frantically for where the footprints continued, but the rest of the snow in the area was smooth as glass.

“Sas...?” he choked out under his breath.

The panic tightened his throat up. He could barely breathe anymore.

“ _Sas!”_ He cried out, hoping his brother would call back. The scream ripped from his very soul. _“Saaas!!!”_

The valley remained silent apart from the occasional gust of wind.

The darkness gave way to blinding, searing pain as Sans suddenly came to, roused by something too distant for him to comprehend.

He screamed out in his mind because his body was too weak to make a sound. The pain was unbearable, even for his barely-conscious state. He couldn’t open his eyes, move, or form words in his mind. All he knew right now was excruciating agony.

Sans felt his suffering slip away as the darkness mercifully took him back into its embrace.

Papyrus sat in the snow where his brother’s last footsteps had ended, his face buried in his hands as he wept. He had been sitting there so long, a thin layer of snow had covered him, as if the valley was trying to comfort the inconsolable skeleton in a white embrace.

When his tears had been spent, Papyrus merely sat there on the ground, panning the area this way and that for a trace of his brother. He whimpered every time he caught sight of him in the corner of his eye, only to find out that it was just a distant boulder.

He pulled his scarf up to his chin as a brisk gust blew against him. He shuddered. What if his brother was lost somewhere and freezing? He didn’t have his jacket....

He thought about that day he went looking for their father. He remembered how the storm raged around him, buffeting him right and left as he tried to walk. The wind stung his eyes, making it difficult for him to keep them open as he searched the valley for their father. The cold was biting into his bones with its sharp teeth, the snowflakes pelting against him like tiny knife blades. His fingers and toes burned terribly in the bitter temperatures. He remembered the pain and how tired he felt, but he couldn’t go back to Sans without their father. So, he kept going, until....

What if that was happening to Sans right now? What if he was in pain in the cold? How would he ever find Sans in this giant valley?

Papyrus shivered, more from fear than cold. He had never been so terrified in his life. But he wasn’t scared for himself, even though he was completely alone and helpless.

He was afraid for his brother. He knew, deep in his soul, that something terrible had happened to Sans. He knew he was too little to do anything, but, somehow, he knew that his brother needed him right now. He _had_ to find him.

He glanced over at the shelter a short distance off. Maybe Sans had come back while he was sitting there. He’d been crying there for a while, so Sans might have returned without him noticing. He might be inside, worried about where his little brother was.

Papyrus jumped to his feet and ran back to the shelter as fast as he could. He didn’t want to worry his brother, and he needed to see if he was all right. Maybe the feeling in his soul was just from a scary nightmare.

He practically threw himself onto the ground to crawl into the shelter, calling out to his brother who was probably inside, preparing dinner.

“Sas! Sas!”

Papyrus froze in the opening, still on his hands and knees. He felt his heart fall into his stomach.

The shelter was just as empty and silent as it was before.

The disappointment turned into the harsh realization that his brother was gone. It was too much for the little skeleton, and he collapsed onto his stomach, weeping in the snow.

The splitting pain in his skull pulled Sans back into awareness. He still couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes, but he certainly could feel the searing pain.

_...Wh...._

His mind swirled in a fog, punctuated by the stabbing pains.

_....where...._

He tried to move, but couldn’t get his body to respond.

_....am....I...?_

He felt as if he was being crushed under a mountain. He became aware of his breathing, noticing how difficult and excruciating it was.

He was so tired. So very tired. He wanted to sleep. Sleep forever....

But deep inside his mind, he told himself not to. Was that his own voice telling him to stay awake? To get up?

He clung to consciousness, afraid to let go. Why wouldn’t his eyelids open?

He tried to remember what happened or where he was, but his thoughts were clouded from the throbbing pain. It wouldn’t let him think. Wouldn’t let him move.

But he needed to move. To get up. To go back. To him.

_...P...Pa...pyrus...._

A deep sadness welled up within him, as if he had failed the only one in the world who depended on him. A longing crushed him worse than the pain in his body—to be with his brother. Would he ever see him again?

Amid the agony, he could feel something in his soul. Something horribly wrong. Without even seeing it, he knew his soul was dimming inside his chest.

Instinctually, he tried to bring his hand up to his soul. The slight fraction of movement sent a wave of fiery pain up his arm. He couldn’t scream, but the strangled noise he made deep in his throat brought more agony in his chest.

Outnumbered by all the excruciating pain hitting him at once, Sans blacked out once again.

Papyrus picked his head up from the snow, his face still soaked with tears. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves and pulled himself up and into the main room of the shelter. He was filled with a sense of urgent determination.

The feeling inside his soul wasn’t from a nightmare, it was real. Sans was in trouble. He had to find him and help him.

He went over to his brother’s jacket and pulled at it until he freed it from the coat hook. Sans would be needing this. Papyrus put on the jacket, which came down to his knees. He pulled up the sleeves so that his hands popped out and adjusted his scarf from under the jacket.

He crawled back outside. He covered the entrance, just as he’d seen his brother do a hundred times before, then stood up, looking around.

Still no sign of Sans anywhere.

Papyrus pulled the hood up over his head and narrowed his eyes. Then he headed back down the trail of his brother’s footprints.

He would find his brother if he had to search the whole valley.

Sans slowly came to, the immense pain just as brutal as before. He still couldn’t move, his eyes still wouldn’t budge. Every bone in his body felt as if it was on fire.

He struggled to bring his thoughts together as he slipped in and out of awareness. All he could make sense of was that he was trapped. Trapped within his own body.

He lay motionless for some time, fighting to stay conscious. Slowly, achingly, he pieced things together.

The last thing he remembered was...the tunnel. He was standing in the cavern tunnel, in the dark. He could feel the stony ground underneath him now, digging into his bones painfully. Was he still there?

No. No, he remembered. He left the tunnel. He had new magic. He used it to leave the tunnel.

His head throbbed horrifically, making it hard to think. But he had to remember, he knew he had to remember.

He had used his magic...to try to get home. A sob involuntarily erupted from his lungs, causing sharp pains within his chest. He had wanted to go home. To their house. He used his magic, then...

...nothing.

It was all he could remember. He used his magic, then he woke up here, like... _this_.

What had happened? What went wrong?

The pain in his skull burst forth. It hurt so much just thinking. He wanted to rest, he just wanted to rest....

_Don’t go back to sleep._

That voice, it was so familiar. Where was it coming from?

He clung to his thoughts, trying to ignore the pain that crushed into him.

After a small eternity, he tried to open his eyes. It took all the effort he could summon to raise one eyelid a fraction of the way. His vision was completely blurred. All he could see was that it was far brighter than the darkness under his eyelids. The sunlight—which he hadn’t seen in months—hurt his eye, feeding the throbbing pain in his skull. He blinked painfully, then managed to open both his eyes, barely. His splitting headache made it difficult to see or keep his eyes open, but he fought to regain his vision. Bit by bit, what was in front of him came into focus.

_...I-it...i-it’s...._

His body was crumpled against the barrier over the cave opening. He was looking out into the valley outside the mountain. Right where he watched his mother die.

He shut his eyes, regretting spending so much effort to open them. He was too weak to cry, but he felt the sorrow welling up in his weakening soul. Why was he back here, of all places?

He opened his eyes again slowly, staring at the iridescent barrier that was a mere inch away from his eyes.

_...This...thing...._ This _stopped me...._

The barrier that had sliced through his body, decimating his HP maximum. It must have stopped him when he was trying to use his magic to leave the mountain and return to their house. Whatever this seal that covered the cave opening was, it had to be some form of strong magic. It almost killed him back then, and it almost killed him now.

No.

It _was_ going to kill him. Deep down, he knew the truth.

He was dying.

Papyrus had searched the valley for hours. He constantly kept looking back at the shelter, making sure that it was always in sight and hoping he’d catch his brother walking back to it.

He was tired, but the desperation to find his brother kept him going. He would search for the rest of forever if he had to.

Everywhere he went, he scanned the horizon for Sans. He looked for footprints left by his brother, for a sign, for anything that would lead to him.

Each moment that passed, the fear grew inside him. His soul ached as if his heart was being broken, and the feeling worried him immensely. He knew his brother was in danger, he knew it was bad, he knew he had to find him.

Whenever he got far enough from the shelter that it became hard to see, he turned around and headed back to it. Then he’d open the entrance, check to see if his brother had returned home, and when he saw the shelter was empty, he’d rest on the bed a moment to warm up, half expecting his brother to come crawling in from the opening. Then he would go back out, seal up the entrance, and head in a different direction.

On one of his searches, he looked up at the purple and violet walls of the cavern. He wondered if his brother had gotten captured and taken inside. He whimpered, trying to put the thought out of his mind. No, his brother was far too smart to get captured. He wouldn’t be inside the cavern.

Steering clear of the purple stone wall, the little skeleton continued his search.

Sans moaned deep in his throat, coming back to his senses again. He had passed out once more.

He lay motionless, waiting for his mind to clear. He opened his eyes slightly. It was now dark outside in the valley, indicating to him that he’d been there for several hours—at least. His eyelids fell, too weak to remain open.

The pain attacked his body once again, but he was becoming used to it. So much so that he attempted to move again. He _had_ to get out of the cave, back to the shelter. His brother would be going out of his mind with worry. He needed to see him...to say goodbye....

_Sansy, get up. He needs you._

That voice again.... It sounded so much like...like....

Sans had to get back to his brother. Summoning all his strength, he tried to move his left hand. The excruciating pain shot up his arm like a ravaging fire. He screamed inside his mind in agony and a strangled cry escaped his throat, but he refused to stop. He tilted his hand downwards, facing his palm at the floor. A set of white bones rose slowly from the ground under his arms and collarbone. They lifted him up, supporting and raising him as he cried out weakly in pain. It was blinding, searing pain, threatening to cause him to pass out again, but he hung on, concentrating on forming the bones.

Soon, they raised him up high enough that he was on his feet, though he could not stand. His arms and head hung limply over the set of bones as he leaned on them, his knees buckling from the weakness and pain. He fought to balance on his right leg, the only limb that hadn’t been seriously injured. He rested against the bones, preparing himself for the next step. He knew he had one shot at this, and he needed to make it count.

He pushed away the agony, bringing the shelter into his mind.

_...I need to get there.... Please.... I need to see him...one last time...._

He balanced himself on his right foot, readying himself. His left palm was already facing the bones holding him up.

_...Please...bring me back...to him...._

He made the white bones disappear, and as he fell forward, he pushed on his right leg with his last ounce of strength and landed on his left foot, the weight snapping his fractured shinbone completely. As his body fell, the deafening _fwoosh_ and blast of wind surrounded him.

He landed hard, a loud cry of excruciating pain ripping from his throat as he fell face down in the snow.

Papyrus’ head shot up. He had been sitting on the bed, having returned just a short time ago. He was still warming up before setting out again when he heard the cry.

He flung himself off the bed and scrambled out the entrance. He stood up and looked around, his heart racing. Then he gasped sharply.

His brother was laying on the ground near the shelter, motionless.

Papyrus ran to him as fast as he could. He slammed down on his knees beside Sans’ head, laying his hands on his back.

“Sas! _Sas!_ ”

His brother gave no response.

He nudged Sans’ shoulders urgently. “ _Sas!"_

Still nothing.

Papyrus rolled him onto his back. “ _Sa—!”_

He gasped in horror, clasping his hands over his mouth.

There were several long cracks in Sans’ skull, branching like lightning. His cheekbone and forehead had gaping holes where the bone was missing. A few of his teeth were broken, others were completely gone. His left leg was bent at an awkward angle, and his wrists and forearms showing from below his sleeve cuffs were fractured and broken.

Papyrus stared wide-eyed at his damaged brother, unable to move. He had never seen any injuries this bad in his life, and his heart was gripped in terror at the sight of his poor brother.

“S-Sas...,” he whispered in shock.

He took off his brother’s jacket and laid it over him like a blanket. Not knowing what else he could possibly do to help his wounded brother, he buried his head in Sans’ shoulder and wept loudly.

The crying sounded so distant to Sans, as if it were on the other end of the world. He followed it, swimming through the darkness of his consciousness to reach it.

“...Pap....”

The sound was barely a whisper, but Papyrus heard it. His head shot up and he looked into his brother’s face.

Sans didn’t have the strength to move his head, but he forced his eyes to open, staring straight ahead into space through half-open lids. “...Pap....”

“ _Sas!_ ” Papyrus cried out urgently.

Sans’ white pupils slowly moved down to meet into his brother’s eyes. His mouth creased slightly in an effort to grin. He was so happy to see his brother again.

Papyrus didn’t know what to do, how to help his brother. All he could do was look helplessly into Sans’ eyes.

Sans was having a hard time breathing. The broken ribs were threatening to puncture his lungs and soul, but he had to speak. He bore up under the sharp pain to form words that escaped his throat in agony. He prolongedly spoke, each syllable whispered out with an excruciating exhale of breath.

“...Pap.... I’m...not...going...to...make...it....”

Papyrus’ eyes grew wide in fear. No.... No, this couldn’t be happening.

“...Li...sten...to...me....”

The little skeleton couldn’t stop the tears from spilling. Why was his brother talking like this? He was going to be fine....

“...Go...to...ca...vern.... They...will...take...care...of...you....”

“No,” Papyrus breathed, shaking his head slowly. “No. No, Pa stay wif Sas. _Pa stay wif Sas!”_

Sans’ heart broke, wanting nothing more than to stay with Papyrus. But he knew he couldn’t. He could feel his soul’s glow fading. The pain was leaving him slowly—it didn’t hurt as much anymore. His body felt extremely light now. Light as dust.

His eyes never left his brother’s.

“...I...love...you...Pa...py...rus....”

His eyes shut gently, and his breathing slowed to a stop.

Panic gripped Papyrus.

“Sas! _Sas!_ No, Sas! _No!!!_ ”

He leaned closer to his brother, desperate to wake him up. He pulled down the jacket and put his hands on Sans’ chest to feel his soul. There was no glow within him.

Papyrus shut his eyes tightly, his teeth clenched, refusing to accept any of this.

He lost his mother.

He lost his father.

He was not going to lose his brother.

He summoned everything within him to help his brother. He felt the magic in his soul stirring as his tears flowed, his hands still over his brother’s soul.

_Don’t leave me._

He pictured his brother awake, sitting up, and grinning at him.

_Don’t leave me._

He imagined his brother’s soul, glowing bright white in his chest.

_Don’t leave me._

He remembered the words his brother whispered in his ear that woke him up from the cold, dark place.

_Don’t leave me._

He opened his eyes and stared down at the light coming from his hands, covering his brother’s chest. Sans’ soul was glowing, but it wasn’t white. It was green.

Papyrus didn’t understand what was happening, but he didn’t let go. He wouldn’t let go. He closed his eyes again, concentrating on his brother’s soul, just as Sans had taught him to do with his bone magic during all those lessons.

_Don’t leave me._

He felt his magic flowing up from his soul, down his arms, out through his hands, and into his brother’s soul. He kept on summoning it, refusing to stop or give up.

_Don’t leave me!_

A gasp of breath suddenly tore from Sans’ mouth. Papyrus’ eyes shot open, his green-glowing hands still not budging. He watched as his brother slowly took another breath. Then another. It was ragged, but his brother was breathing again.

He felt his brother’s chest rise and fall under his hands as he breathed. Something seemed wrong with his chest, so he moved his hands slightly and felt his brother’s ribcage. He could feel that the ribs were shattered and loose under his shirt. Papyrus closed his eyes again, letting his magic—whatever it was—flow from him into Sans’ ribcage. He pictured his brother’s ribcage, seeing each perfectly curved rib. He opened his eyes and saw his brother’s ribs glowing with the green light through his shirt. He held his hands there for a while until Sans’ ribs re-formed.

Papyrus’ eyes grew wide, stunned by what he was doing. He narrowed his eyes. He could heal. He would make his brother better again. He would save him.

He put his hands on either side of Sans’ skull and closed his eyes. He pictured his brother’s skull, perfectly smooth with his gentle eyes and warm grin. Then he opened his eyes. He watched his brother’s skull glow in the green light as the cracks slowly disappeared, the gaps and holes filled in, and his teeth restored.

Papyrus healed his brother’s arms and leg in the same manner. As he continued, he started to feel a strange kind of tired, a sensation he had never felt before. The green glow under his hands flickered after a while, and Papyrus was out of breath. But he wasn’t going to stop until his brother’s injuries were fixed. 

Once he finished healing Sans’ leg, Papyrus had healed all the injuries he could see. He sat on his knees, panting for breath, and swayed slightly. He was severely drained and needed to rest, but that didn’t matter to him now.

He gently nudged his brother’s shoulder. “Sas...?”

Sans’ breathing had become steady, no longer sounding raspy or ragged, but he still didn’t wake. Papyrus knew he needed to get him off of the snow and into bed to rest. Then he would wake up, good as new.

Papyrus stood up, but the exertion from expending so much magic in a short amount of time made him weak. He staggered a bit, then fell over onto the snow. He struggled to rise, his desire to get his brother into the shelter overpowering his exhaustion. He stood back up and steadied himself, then he went around to stand behind his brother’s head. He leaned down, grabbed Sans under his arms, and lifted his limp body up, then started to pull him, inch by careful inch, towards the shelter.

Sans wasn’t that much bigger than Papyrus, but the little skeleton had great difficulty since he had been so weakened. Still, he managed to bring his brother into the shelter after an exceeding amount of time and effort. He laid him down gently in the shelter opening and collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath.

His body trembled from the strain, but he knew he couldn’t rest yet. Gulping for air, Papyrus pushed the fabrics down to the foot of the bed. Then he looked at the bed, panting, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how he was going to get his big brother onto the bed safely.

Finally, he stood against the far wall and raised his right hand. White bones shot up at an angle from the middle of the floor towards the bed, creating a sort of ramp. Carefully, Papyrus pulled his brother over to the bottom of the ramp and positioned his limp form to lay up on the bones. Then he climbed on the bed, knelt on the mat, and reached down to grab his brother under his arms. He grunted as he pulled Sans up the ramp onto the bed.

Once his brother was on the mat, Papyrus raised his right hand again and made the bones disappear, then he climbed off the bed and grabbed the haversack from the floor. He shifted his brother up to lay on the haversack, then covered him with the fabrics and his blue jacket.

He stood by the side of the bed, making sure his brother was in a comfortable position and well covered, then stumbled as he headed to the shelter opening. He crawled through, sealed up the entrance with snow, and returned to the main room. He went to his brother’s side and leaned over to check on him.

Sans was still unconscious, but breathing normally. Papyrus put a shaky hand over his brother’s soul and watched as it glowed a steady white. He was out of danger.

Relief washed over Papyrus at the sight of his brother’s glowing soul. He swayed as he stood back up straight, then his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor, passing out from exhaustion. The little skeleton had finally allowed himself to rest, knowing that his brother was safely back home, and back with him.


	16. Chapter 16

Papyrus was running through the snow as fast as he could. The hem of his brother’s jacket flapped against his knees, the hood thumping up and down against his back with each footfall. His brother was laying in the snow up ahead, not moving at all. He tried calling out to him, but his voice didn’t make a sound.

At long last, he reached his motionless brother. He knelt beside him and started shaking him in an effort to wake him up. When he wouldn’t move, Papyrus rolled him over and jumped back in fear.

His brother was crumbling slowly before his eyes. Shattered pieces of his skull fell away, then rose up in wisps of white dust. His hands dissipated slowly, starting with his fingertips.

His eyes were wide open, but his white pupils were gone. They stared into nothingness like two jet black voids.

Papyrus stood in horror as he watched his brother dust off, mixing in with the snowflakes on the wind. He fell upon what remained of his brother’s body, grasping at handfuls of dust and pulling them back against his bones in an effort to keep Sans together.

Eventually, his brother had completely dusted. Papyrus lay weeping in the pile of his brother’s dust that hadn’t yet blown away. He clutched handfuls of it in his anguish, sobbing into it mournfully, crying out with a voice that would not come.

Papyrus woke up, screaming. _“No! Sas! No! No!!!”_

He lifted his head up, opening his tear-filled eyes and breathing heavily. He looked at the clumps of white in his hands and cried out again in grief. He pressed them against his face, weeping into the remains of his beloved brother.

But they were cold....

Sniffling and panting, Papyrus looked at the clumps again. It was just snow.... It was only snow.

He shook the snow off his hands in disgust and got to his hands and knees, looking around as his sleepiness gave way to awareness.

He was in the shelter, on the snowy floor, next to the bed.

_The bed!_ Papyrus suddenly remembered everything that had happened before he passed out. He sprang to the bedside and breathed a huge sigh of relief when he saw his brother laying on the bed with no signs of dusting off. Sans was still unconscious, but he was alive.

Papyrus put his hand on his brother’s chest. Sans’ soul was glowing brightly. Papyrus was relieved once again, plopping his face down flat on the bed.

It was just a terrible nightmare. His brother was all right.

Papyrus kept his face buried there a moment, allowing his heart to slow down from racing marathons in his chest. When he had calmed down, he stood up. He felt much better than he had before—he was no longer dizzy and wobbly. He noticed that he still had his scarf on and unwound it, then put it over his brother as an additional layer of warmth.

His stomach suddenly gave a small growl. Papyrus rubbed it gently—he was hungry. It had been a long time since he’d eaten. He glanced over at Sans and knew his brother was going to need food when he woke up to help him heal.

Papyrus went over to the pantry wall. There was no food left in the bowl his brother had dug into the snow. He looked up on the small table against the wall that he and his brother had made with snow. Sans had covered it with flat pieces of wood and used it to prepare food for meals. Papyrus saw a couple of mouseshroom nightlights and some nuts on it that his brother must have left for dinner the previous night.

Papyrus couldn’t reach the stones to shell the nuts, but he _did_ know how to roast the mushrooms. He whimpered softly, looking back towards the bed at his unconscious brother. Papyrus knew he wasn’t supposed to go into the fire room without Sans, but Sans was going to need to eat to get better again.

Papyrus narrowed his eyes, making a decision. If he got hurt by the fire or in trouble when Sans woke up, he didn’t care. It was more important to him that Sans eat food that would help him heal than if anything bad happened to himself.

The broken spear they used to roast food over the fire was hanging up on the end of the food shelf, out of his reach. Papyrus felt a twinge of guilt for what he was about to do, but he had no other choice.

He put his right hand out and a long, thin loose white bone emerged from the ground. Making sure he was standing far back enough to be safe, he used the bone to pull the spear off the shelf. When the spear fell free, he jumped back as it dropped to the floor so it didn’t hit him. He picked it up, grabbed the two mushrooms, and went into the fire room.

Papyrus put one of the mushrooms on the cooling rack and speared the other. Then he looked at the fire, hesitating a moment. This was the first time he was doing this without Sans helping him, and he felt both nervous and sad. He whimpered, glancing over his shoulder at his brother in the bed. Then he took a deep breath and turned back to the magical flame.

He lifted the spear with both hands, holding the mushroom above the fire as he had done many times now, except without Sans sitting behind him, helping him hold the spear. He turned it occasionally, watching the flames tickle the mushroom and spearpoint. The longer he held the spear, the more his nerves melted away.

There was something about taking raw food and roasting flavor and texture into it that Papyrus loved. It was like a different kind of magic—crafting foods with heat and mastering timing so that the food was just right. He especially enjoyed watching his brother relish each bite as if it was the most delicious food he’d ever eaten, and the words of praise Sans gave him fed his soul more than any food he could eat. Papyrus knew he wasn’t as clever or talented as his brother, but this was something he felt he was getting fairly good at, and making his brother happy meant the world to him.

Once the mushroom was perfectly roasted, Papyrus pulled the spear back from the flame. He stared at the cooling rack of bones on the floor and reached a conundrum. Usually Sans would take the spear and remove the food, putting it on the cooling rack as Papyrus watched. Now, the little skeleton had to figure out how to do it without burning or cutting himself.

He laid the mushroom on the rack and picked up the tiny white bone Sans used to push food off the spearpoint. He reached down and carefully pushed it off, wishing his arm wasn’t so short. At last, the mushroom was free, and he stuck the spear in the snow to cool off.

Papyrus couldn’t help but smile, feeling proud for having done this important job all by himself. He let the mushroom cool off while he went to check on his brother.

Sans hadn’t moved at all from where Papyrus positioned him the previous night. The little skeleton knelt beside the bed and folded his arms, laying his chin upon them, watching his brother.

After a few minutes, Papyrus got up and took a piece of burlap from their snow “dining table,” then went back into the fire room. He poked the mushroom with his fingertips quickly to make sure the mushroom was cooled down enough, and put it in the burlap napkin. He took it to the bed and climbed up, kicking off his shoes. He sat cross-legged next to Sans’ right shoulder, the roasted mouseshroom nightlight in his lap.

“Sas?” Papyrus called, hopefully. “Sas, wan some food?”

Sans remained motionless.

“Is nummy food,” Papyrus urged, tearing off a piece. “Pa make food, Sas. Wan some?”

His brother didn’t move.

“Smell,” he coaxed, holding the piece of roasted mushroom under his brother’s nose. Papyrus made a deep sniffing sound. “Mmm, smells nummy. Sas wan some?”

Sans didn’t answer.

Papyrus’ face fell. “Sas...wan some food? Make Sas feel good. Make Sas strong....”

Still nothing. Papyrus sighed sadly, putting the piece back on his lap, waiting for his brother to stir. His stomach soon growled deeply as the smell wafted up to his nose.

“Ok, Sas. Pa eat, den Sas. Pa make more food for Sas.”

Papyrus guiltily ate the piece of mushroom, watching his brother. With each piece the little skeleton tore off, he offered it first to his unconscious brother before reluctantly putting it in his own mouth.

When he was finished, Papyrus got off the bed to roast the second mushroom. He didn’t want his brother to go hungry when he woke up, after all.

The darkness pulled back its thick, velvety blackness. Sensations slowly began to filter in the haziness. There was a soft dim light far up ahead, a faint crackle echoed all around, and a dull ache throbbed, increasing with each beat. The world inside swirled, pushing upwards to the surface.

Sans moaned softly, deep in his throat, his head shifting a fraction.

Papyrus heard it as he stood in front of the fire, roasting the second mushroom. He dropped the spear on the floor and ran for the bed.

“Sas...?” he whispered, holding his breath.

His brother lay still and silent. Papyrus thought he was hearing things, when he saw his brother’s brow slightly furrow.

“Sas?” Papyrus gasped.

Another moan escaped with an exhale as Sans’ head shifted once more. His face creased as he roused. He moaned a little louder, then his eyes slowly opened.

“Sas...?” the little skeleton breathed.

Sans blinked slowly, getting his bearings. He turned his head slightly, looking at his brother, confusion furrowing his brow.

“...P...Pap...?”

His voice was a dry croak, as if he hadn’t spoken in decades.

Papyrus fell upon his brother, hugging him as he cried out in joy. “Sas! _Sas!_ ”

Sans grunted under the sudden weight, grinning weakly. He didn’t have the strength to hug back, but he mentally embraced his brother tightly.

Papyrus sat back up to look at him. “Sas ok?”

Sans didn’t know how to answer. The last thing he remembered was telling his brother he loved him right before...he died.

His eyes widened, his breath lost in his throat. He was dead! Why was Papyrus here with him? Did something happen to Papyrus?!

Sans tried to sit up but the pain and weakness kept him down, forcing him to cringe and grunt loudly in agony.

_...O...ok.... Death isn’t supposed to hurt like this...._

Papyrus put his hands on Sans’ arm, worried that his brother’s sudden movement was an indication of severe pain. “Sas ok...?”

“...Mmyeah...,” he grunted, not really sure if that was the correct answer.

He tried to lift his left hand to his chest, but could barely move it. Papyrus noticed the slight movement and realized what his brother was doing, so he carefully leaned over Sans and picked up his hand by the wrist. He brought it up to his brother’s chest as Sans winced and grunted in pain.

Sans’ soul glowed brightly in his chest, which he was surprised to see after feeling it fade away to darkness. But his HP stunned him more.

1 HP/1 HP.

He was both terrified at the single HP and shocked that it was even that high. All that extra HP he had been storing up over the last few weeks was gone. Yet he was so sure he had died, he couldn’t understand how it was even “full.”

He slid his hand off his chest and it flopped to his side as he whimpered in pain.

Papyrus jumped off the bed and ran into the fire room.

“Pa made food for Sas!”

“...You...what...?” Sans croaked weakly in confusion.

The little skeleton came back to the bed with a mouseshroom nightlight wrapped in a burlap napkin. He clambered up the bed to sit next to Sans’ head.

“Made food. Sas eat, feel strong!” Papyrus said matter-of-factly as he tore off a piece of the mushroom.

He held the piece out in front of Sans’ face as his brother weakly opened his mouth. Papyrus gently placed the piece in and Sans chewed slowly.

“...S’warm...,” Sans mumbled in surprise as he chewed. He swallowed, feeling his pain fractionally decrease.

“Yeah! Pa made food! Roas on fire all by myself!”

Sans’ mouth fell open, but it wasn’t for more food. “...Roasted...? ...Pap...you...you could’ve hurt yourself....”

The pride painted on Papyrus’ face drained, and his face fell. “M’sorry....”

“...No...no...,” Sans breathed. “...I’m not upset....”

Papyrus’ lower jaw quivered as he explained himself. “Sas was sleep’n. Pa was hungy, need food. Sas hurt, need food. No cold food. On’y shooms. Pa need food, Sas need food. Had to roas. M’sorry, Sas....”

Sans listened to his brother while his heart sank. The poor thing was desperate—he must have felt terrible doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. And not just so he could eat, but so that he could heal his brother.

Sans grinned weakly. “...Pap...don’t be sorry.... I’m proud of you....”

Papyrus’ face lit up. “Sas not mad at Pa?”

“...No...you did great....it’s really delicious....”

The little skeleton happily broke off another piece and fed it to his brother. Bit by bit, Papyrus helped his brother eat the whole mushroom.

Sans’ pain diminished more, although his body was still sore and weak. He was just glad that the worst of the pain was over. He turned to his brother and asked the question that was on his mind since realizing he hadn’t died.

“...Pap...what...what happened...?”

Papyrus explained animatedly, acting out many of the details with his hands and arms.

“Pa hear Sas scream, an Pa run out. Pa find Sas. Sas hurt bad. _Real_ bad. Pa cry cuz Sas hurt, Sas no wake up. Pa sad Sas migh go way. Den Sas wake up, but Sas hurt. Sas tell Pa go to cav, Pa said _NO_. Pa stay wif Sas. Den...d-d-den...S-S-Sas say...S-Sas love Pa.... D-den Sas stop. Sas _stop...._ Pa scared. _Real_ scared. Pa say _NO._ Sas _NO_ go way, Sas _NO_ leave Pa. Pa put hans on Sas soul. No whi glowey. Pa make soul gween glowey. Gween glowey brin Sas back. Gween fix Sas head, fix Sas arms an leg. Gween fix Sas. Den Pa pick up Sas, brin home. Pa make bones— _WOOSH!_ —up bed. Bones make slide. Pa slide Sas on bed. Pa make bones go way— _WOOSH!_ —bones gone. Pa tuck Sas in, Sas go sleep. Pa tired, fall down, go sleep. Pa wake up, make food, take care Sas, make Sas food. Sas wake up, an Pa happy now!”

Sans blinked, his mouth hanging open.

Papyrus sat there, the smile still wide on his face.

“... _Green_...?” Sans whispered when his thoughts had gathered. “...You...made _green_ magic...?”

Papyrus nodded. “Yup.”

“...Pap...,” his voice barely audible with astonishment. “...You...you can _heal_...?”

The little skeleton looked down at his hands, then back up at his brother. “Yup.”

“...Wh...where did...? ...How...? ...When did...did you learn to use... _healing_ _magic_...?”

Papyrus shrugged sadly. “I dunno. Sas was goin way. Pa no wan Sas go way. Don wan Sas leave me.... D-d-don w-wan Sas leave me....”

He sniffled, then tears started falling from his little eyes.

“Pa s-scared Sas leave f-fuheva.... Den Pa make gween....”

Papyrus started sobbing, burying his face in his hands. Sans mustered up all his strength to lift his right arm and put it around his brother. He would have given anything to be able to raise up and hug Papyrus right now.

“...Pap...,” Sans whispered, and his brother lowered his hands from his eyes to look at him. “...You...you saved my life....”

Papyrus fell upon his brother, hugging him around his neck as he sobbed. Sans weakly nuzzled the side of his brother’s face.

“...Don’t cry...Pap...,” Sans breathed weakly, his strength waning. “...I’m not leaving you.... I’m here.... I’m here now...because of you....” 

Papyrus came back from the fire room with two roasted mouseshroom nightlights and set them on the bed before climbing up. Sans opened his eyes at the smell of dinner, waking up from a short nap to regain extra HP to strengthen him.

Papyrus tore off pieces of the mushroom and fed his brother, taking bites of his own in between. With each morsel, Sans felt more of his pain dissipate.

Sans’ body was still in a great deal of agony, and he was extremely weak. However, he was faring much better than he was before when he lay broken in the cave, dying. It would be a while before he fully recovered from his extensive injuries.

But he knew he’d be just fine. He had the best caretaker in the world, after all.


	17. Chapter 17

Several days had passed since Sans woke up. He had spent the time sleeping most of the day to regain the extra HP he needed to stave off his weakness and get as far from the 1 HP as he could. In the few times he would wake up, Papyrus would feed him to help with his intense physical pain. Sans had been unable to sit up or move his body, so his brother had to continue helping him eat.

When Papyrus wasn’t roasting food, he was at his brother’s side. He had taken his tiny white bones up with him on the bed to play with as his brother slept soundly. The moment Sans showed signs of waking up, he would hop off of the bed and start making roasted mushrooms. He had pulled off several of them from the pantry shelf using the long white bone he had created—squeaking and lighting up as they hit the floor—and placed them on the food prep table for when he was ready to roast them.

Each morning, Sans attempted to move, testing the condition of his body. After almost a week since the incident, he found that he was finally able to sit up and move his limbs, even if the pain was still achingly present. At one point, he rolled up his sleeves, pant leg, and shirt to see the extent of the damage done to his arms, leg, and ribs. He was astonished to find that every bone looked as though they had never been broken. Papyrus had healed them perfectly—there were no scars, no marks where the bones had knit back.

He was now able to sit up against the haversack, watching Papyrus play on the bed. He was still too sore and weak to get out of bed, but he was sleeping less during the day, with only the occasional nap.

Since Sans was still bedridden, he decided to use the time to teach Papyrus some things their parents would have taught him if they were back home. Sans started teaching him simple addition and subtraction using the tiny white bones, since the little skeleton had already learned how to count before they fled to the mountain. Papyrus was a quick learner, and found the new math games with his bone toys a lot of fun.

Sans created about a dozen loose white bones, and Papyrus picked them up from the floor where they were made and brought them to his brother. Using twine from the haversack, Sans made a frame with four of them. Then he tied the remaining bones to the back of the frame, side by side, fashioning a tray while he had Papyrus run outside for some snow. Sans packed the snow into the bone tray and smoothed it down, making a writing slate. He then created a very thin, small, loose white bone to use as a writing utensil.

Using the slate, he taught Papyrus how to write, wiping the snow smooth to clear the board. It was tricky at first, since Papyrus tried to imitate Sans exactly, using his left hand with much difficulty. Sans showed him how to form the letters with his right hand, and his brother copied him, now with his dominant hand. Soon Papyrus was able to write out all the letters of the alphabet all by himself.

Once he had mastered writing and sounding out the alphabet, Sans began teaching him to read. He wrote words out on the slate and worked with Papyrus to sound out the syllables.

Sans was astounded at how fast his little brother caught on, but then again, he wasn’t _completely_ surprised. After all, he knew Papyrus was an incredibly intelligent little skeleton.

After dinner each night, Sans would test Papyrus on things he had been learning—math, writing, and reading—and made a fun game of it, which his brother adored. If he got high marks, Sans would make a snow treat for him—Papyrus bringing him the snow to shape, of course. Papyrus won a snow treat every night because he was so smart.

Then they would play a game with the tiny white bones before bed. When they were done, Papyrus cleared the bed of the bones and writing slate as Sans carefully shifted himself to lay down. Papyrus climbed in next to his brother, pulling up the fabrics to tuck Sans and himself in. Then Papyrus would raise his right hand, making the blue bones he created that morning disappear to darken the room, and snuggled in with his brother to sleep.

On a morning about a week and a half after his accident, Sans woke up to almost no pain. He checked his HP as he did every morning since he regained consciousness.

50 HP/1 HP.

The extent of his injuries had limited the amount of extra HP he was gaining each day, but the further he got from 1 HP, the better he felt—physically and mentally. Every time he woke up in pain, he realized how severely he had broken his body against the barrier, counting himself extremely fortunate. Especially since the only reason he was able to wake up _at all_ was because of his brother’s healing magic.

Sans shuddered, hating even thinking about that day. He looked down at Papyrus, still asleep against him. Sans stroked his little head gently.

_Poor thing,_ he thought to himself, sadly. _Another rough night.... All because of me...._

Every night since the incident, Papyrus would wake up screaming for him. Sans, roused suddenly by his brother’s panic, would comfort the sobbing little skeleton, reassuring him that he was there and he was all right. It would take some time for Papyrus to calm down enough to fall back to sleep. Sans wasn’t sure if his brother remembered the nightmares or waking up in terror since he was always his usual, happy self each morning.

Sans felt terribly guilty for putting his brother through all that. He couldn’t imagine how painful and terrifying it must have been for Papyrus to find him in that state. There was no way that Sans could have foreseen what had happened, yet he constantly chastised himself for traumatizing his little brother.

He curled up with Papyrus, nuzzling into the top of his head. He didn’t want to break the peaceful moment yet, so he closed his eyes and went back to sleep, his head gently resting against his brother’s.

Papyrus grunted softly as he shifted in his sleep, waking up slowly. He opened his eyes, blinked back the tiredness and tilted his head up. Sans was sleeping against him, curled up on his side. The little skeleton nestled in against his brother’s chest, under his chin. He listened to Sans’ breathing and felt his soul against his cheek as he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

The images from his nightmare flashed in his mind, causing him to flinch. Papyrus saw his brother’s skull, gaping and broken, cracked like a beaten egg shell. His eyes sprung open, then shut tight as he tried to wipe the picture from his mind. He snuggled into his brother closer, trying to push the memories out of his head.

He put his hand on his brother’s chest and watched the bright white glow emanating from Sans’ ribcage. He focused on the healthy light, letting it burn away the terrifying image of his dying brother from his mind.

Sans rolled over, coming up slowly from the depths of sleep. He knew from the lack of weight on his arm that his brother was up and out of bed. The smell of roasting mushrooms confirmed it. He rolled back again, opening his eyes slowly.

He glanced at the blue bones in the corners of the room that his brother must have created to light up the shelter for the day. Sans grinned at the glowing blue-white lights—his brother was getting really good with his bone magic.

Reluctantly, he sat up, popping his neck and lower back loudly.

“Morning, Pap,” he called as he rubbed his spine.

“Monin, Sas!” Papyrus answered from the fire room.

Sans propped himself up against the haversack, stretching his stiff arms and legs.

_Not even an ache,_ he grinned.

“Hey, Pap,” he said as his brother brought in the burlap-wrapped mushrooms and put them on the bed. “I was thinking. How ‘bout we go outside today? It’s been ages since we’ve had fresh air, and I need to test these legs out.”

He expected his brother to be enthused at the idea. What he didn’t expect was the look of disapproval Papyrus gave him. His mouth was upturned into a deep frown and his eyebrow was raised so high, Sans thought it would leave his skull.

Sans blinked. “What?”

“Sas go outside, Sas get hurt. Sas stay in bed, Sas no get hurt.”

“Wh-? Bu-,” Sans stammered. “Nu- _uh!_ Not _every_ time.”

Papyrus’ face didn’t change as he folded his arms slowly.

“Ok, listen,” Sans said, desperately trying to defend himself. “I’ve done a lot of dangerous stuff lately, and have only hurt myself...,” he looked up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking, “...a _few_ times, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to get hurt _every_ time.”

Papyrus didn’t move or alter his expression as he sighed deep in his throat.

“Paa _aaap_ ,” he pleaded. “I can’t stay here forever!”

“Yes. Sas. Can.”

Sans blinked again, stunned at the firm tone in Papyrus’ words.

“Sas _nevah_ leave agan. Sas stay in bed, sleep, eat, play wif Pa. Sas leave, Pa no fin, Pa cry, Pa fin Sas hurt, wif...w-wif...”

Papyrus’ stern face melted into tears, his lower jaw quivering, and his arms unfolded as he reached up to wipe his eyes with the back of his hands. He continued in broken sobs.

“...w-wif a boken head an boken hans an boken feets an a boken soul wif no whi glowey, an Pa don know if Pa can make gween agan to fix Sas, den Sas go way fuheva...an...an....”

Papyrus couldn’t finish, for his weeping overtook him.

Sans’ heart broke as his brother cried his tiny heart out. He pulled Papyrus up onto the bed and hugged him, nuzzling against the side of his head with his own.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he whispered into his brother’s ear. “It’s ok, it’s ok. I’m not going anywhere, Papyrus. I’m not leaving you.”

His brother sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder, his cries echoing off the wall behind Sans.

Sans rubbed his back while rocking him, shushing him gently in his ear. He would give anything to take the memory of that day away from his little brother.

At long last, when Papyrus’ cries calmed to a sniffle, Sans pulled him back to sit in his lap, facing him.

“Papyrus,” Sans whispered soothingly. “I know that when I was hurt, it was really scary.”

The little skeleton nodded tearfully.

“But we can’t stay in here forever, even if it’s the safest place in the world. We’re going to run out of food soon, and we need to get more. I’ve been outside a lot, and I don’t always get hurt.”

Papyrus, took a few sobbing breaths.

Sans wiped his brother’s eyes with his thumb. “There will be times when I get hurt, or when you get hurt, but it’s not _every_ time. Bad things happen to us sometimes.”

His brother’s eyes filled with fear.

“ _But_ ,” Sans emphasized gently. “Whenever bad things happen to one of us, the other always comes to help. I make _you_ better when you’re hurt, and you make _me_ better when I’m hurt.”

Papyrus gave a tiny, grumbling “mmm” of agreement to his point.

“As long as we have each other, we will always be ok. I won’t leave you, and you won’t leave me. Ok?”

“Kay...,” Papyrus murmured, still unsure if his brother was right.

Sans hugged him again. “I love you, Papyrus. I’m never going to leave you.”

Papyrus snuggled into his brother’s chest. “Love you, too, Sas. Pa neva gon leave Sas. I pwomise.”

Sans jolted, a sudden chill running down his spine.

_“I will be fine, I promise you.”_

_“Mommy.... No.... Don’t go...don’t leave me...you promised....”_

Papyrus pulled away to reach for their breakfast, having been adequately comforted by his brother. He handed Sans his roasted mushroom, unaware that his brother was staring ahead into the past, haunted by that word.

After breakfast, Papyrus put the burlap napkins on the little snow dining table. Sans took this opportunity to quickly wipe away the tears from his eyes that he had hid from his brother during the meal.

Papyrus went back to the bedside slowly, in deep thought. Sans wondered if his brother saw the tears after all.

Papyrus stood next to the bed, placing his little hands upon the mat. He stared at them a moment before turning his sad eyes up to meet his brother’s.

“Sas, wan go outside?”

Sans blinked. “R-really?”

Papyrus nodded. “Yeah. Sas righ, is safe. We go outside alla time. No get hurt den. We be ok.”

Sans frowned concernedly. “I do really want to go outside...but are you sure? I don’t want you to do something that you don’t really want to do or will make you scared.”

The corner of Papyrus’ mouth twitched, betraying the misgivings he had about leaving the shelter. “Yeah, s’ok to go outside.”

The little skeleton suddenly put on a courageous face, raising his eyebrow and smirking bravely as he put both hands on his hips.

“Sides! Pa potec Sas! Keep Sas safe fom gettin hurt!”

Sans smiled widely at his adorable protector. He saw his brother’s scarf in the corner of his eye at the foot of the bed and grabbed it.

“Well, a hero’s gotta have a cape,” he exclaimed as he wrapped the scarf around his brother’s neck. “I’m sure to be safe from all harm with you by my side!”

Papyrus flipped the end of his scarf behind him valiantly, then returned his hand to his hip and gave a hearty, heroic laugh.

“Nyeh heh _heh!_ ”

Papyrus went through the opening to dig out the entrance while Sans shifted himself to the edge of the bed.

He carefully swung his legs over the side and sat there a moment. The snow on his feet felt strange, as it had been almost two weeks since he set foot on the floor.

Papyrus returned from the entrance and retrieved his brother’s shoes from the floor at the end of the bed. The little skeleton helped his brother put them on, the role reversal not lost on Sans at all as he grinned thoughtfully.

“Thanks, Pap,” he said, once his shoes were one. “Bring yours over and I’ll help you put them on.”

“No, s’ok,” Papyrus said as he sat on the floor, pulling the first shoe on. “Pa do it.”

It tugged on Sans’ soul a bit, and he felt his bottom lip quiver.

_Looks like you don’t need me for that anymore.... You’re growing up way too fast, Papyrus...._

Sans leaned towards the foot of the bed to extract his jacket from the jumble of fabrics. He had some trouble getting his arms into the sleeves, grunting slightly.

“Sas ok?” Papyrus asked worriedly.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered as he struggled. “I’m just stiff.”

Papyrus came over and helped him straighten out the sleeves, one at a time, so his arms could go through. Sans heaved a deep sigh, frustrated that he couldn’t even put on his own jacket.

He didn’t feel pain, but his body was still weak and every joint was stiff from lack of use. Getting outside and walking around would be good for him.

He shakily tried to get to his feet, but, once again, struggled. He felt like he weighed ten times what he did before, and couldn’t get his legs to support him. Papyrus helped him up, putting his hand behind Sans’ back and pulling his brother’s arm around his head over his shoulder.

Steadily, Sans stood up, his body trembling. It felt very strange to stand up, and he was extremely dizzy. Papyrus held him up so he didn’t fall over.

Sans considered creating bones to use as crutches, but he didn’t want to put any additional strain on his arms and ribcage. Besides, he would be fine with Papyrus keeping him steady.

Sans grunted loudly through clenched teeth as he put a trembling foot forward, regretting the idea to get out of bed. Papyrus helped his brother walk around the room, supporting him with his own body, the first few steps taking quite a bit of time and effort to make.

Soon, each step became easier, and Sans was grunting less. After a few circuits around the main room, Sans felt ready to go outside. Papyrus helped his brother get to his knees to crawl out the opening, and went outside ahead of him.

Sans crawled slowly through the entrance and stuck his head out. The fresh, cold air felt invigorating. He took a deep, slow breath in, letting the frigid air fill his lungs, holding it a moment before releasing it back out into soft, white wisps that circled his head.

“Ahh,” he sighed happily. “I missed that.”

Papyrus helped his brother stand up, bringing his brother’s arm back around his head, over his shoulder as he held up Sans’ lower back with his other arm.

They walked a few steps away from the shelter, turning to face the cavern. They both came to an immediate halt and gasped.

A thick wall of tall white pines stood before them in the distance, beginning at the cavern and tapering off at a span of about half a mile. The trees were densely packed, and Sans could no longer see the purple and violet stones of the cavern from here.

Papyrus’ jaw dropped with gleeful astonishment at the sight of the forest that had suddenly sprung up while they were tucked away in the shelter.

“Lookit, Sas,” he breathed in awe, letting go of his brother’s arm momentarily to point. “Twees!”

Papyrus looked up at his brother’s face, expecting to see him just as excited, and gasped softly when he saw his expression.

Sans was staring at the trees, wide-eyed in alarm, his breath trapped in his lungs following his initial gasp. He started trembling fiercely, but it wasn’t from weakness or pain. It was from fear.

“Th-those trees...,” he whispered. “They didn’t grow naturally.... Th-they must have been made using magic....”

Sans shuddered, feeling their peaceful seclusion in the snow-filled valley suddenly shatter.

“Monsters have been out here in the valley.”


	18. Chapter 18

Sans sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall across the room, his mind and anxiety racing. Should they leave immediately? If they do, where would they go? If the monsters were coming out of the cavern, they could go anywhere. Should they stay hidden in the shelter? Did he camouflage it well enough? They were growing a forest, what if they tried to clear the boulders from the valley to grow more trees? Even if their shelter was never discovered, what if _they_ were while foraging for food?

He ran his trembling hands over his skull, completely overwhelmed. A deep sigh escaped his lungs, tinged with a panicked whine. He was at a complete loss as to what to do.

Papyrus sat on the end of the bed, giving Sans some space. He knew something was wrong when his brother looked scared after seeing the trees, then wanted to return to the shelter at once. Papyrus asked him a few times if he was ok, but Sans didn’t seem to hear him. A chill of fear went up the little skeleton’s spine, realizing something terrible must be happening to make his brother like this.

Papyrus nearly jumped out of his clothes when Sans suddenly gave an angry, frustrated groan that turned into a cry as his hands slammed down onto the bed by his sides. The little skeleton curled his knees up against his chest and hugged them, his body trembling fearfully. The last time he saw Sans this angry, it was because Sans couldn’t find their father in the cavern. The day he went to look for him by himself in the valley so his brother wouldn’t be so upset. The day he got lost in the snowstorm and—

Papyrus jumped in surprise when he noticed that Sans was looking at him. His anger was gone, and his face was now sad. Sans lifted his hand and beckoned his brother to come closer. The little skeleton uncurled himself and crawled slowly over to his brother, who had shifted himself to sit in the bed cross-legged. Papyrus climbed into his brother’s outstretched arms and lap, hugging him tightly. Sans wrapped his arms around his brother and felt him trembling.

“Sorry, Pap,” Sans whispered gently. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He pulled out of the hug to face his brother, the little skeleton sliding back to sit in front of Sans. Papyrus’ eyes were brimming with tears. Sans rubbed the top of his brother’s skull gently, frowning as he sighed. As much as he wanted to keep his fears to himself to protect his little brother, he had to be honest with Papyrus. That was the mistake he’d made a hundred times before, and he had resolved to not suffer in silence anymore.

“It’s just...,” Sans began, unsure how to put his thoughts into words that wouldn’t scare Papyrus more. “The trees out there, they scared me. They are magic, and monsters make magic. So, monsters must have made the trees, and it scared me to see them....”

“Why?” Papyrus asked softly, his eyebrows contorted in confusion.

“Because...,” Sans answered, straining to keep the anxiety out of his voice. “We’ve been out here for a while, just you and me, right?”

“Mmhmm,” he nodded.

“But those trees mean we aren’t alone out here anymore.”

Papyrus tilted his head. “Why?”

Sans blinked. “B-because someone had to make the trees....”

“Yahbut, den dey go home,” Papyrus said.

Now it was Sans’ turn to tilt his head. “What?”

Papyrus turned his palms upward in his lap as he answered. “Mosters come out, make twees, den dey go home. S’too cold outside, dey not skeleytons like Sas an Pa. Dey make twees, go ‘Brr! Brr!’, den dey go home an get all warmed up! Dey not outside anymore, dey home. Dat why we don see mosters outside wif alla twees.”

Sans blinked. His brother’s logic was incredibly genius.

Of _course_ they wouldn’t stick around out here. Few monsters could stand the cold like they could, so why would any of them stick around? And there weren’t any traces of others out there—no strange footprints near their shelter, no sounds, and no signs of movement. Maybe they just made the trees to cover the stone doorway from view in case any humans were still looking for them. Or maybe they made the forest to harvest the wood, which meant they’d be back out to collect it.

“But what if they go out to get the trees? What if they’re exploring to forage like we’re doing? What if they’re trying to find a way out of the mountain? What if they spot us?” Sans’ questions came out rapidly as his anxiety rose.

Papyrus thought for a moment before answering. “Dey not hurt us. Dey not yoomans.”

Sans’ voice trembled as he reached the main issue of his fears. “No, they won’t _hurt_ us. But, Pap, they will _separate us_ , remember?! I will lose you! We’ll be split up, and I’ll _lose you_....”

Sans felt hot tears he didn’t mean to shed fall down his eyes into his lap.

Papyrus put his little hands on his brother’s and looked up into his eyes. “Den we leave an come back here.”

_“H-how?!”_ Sans’ sobbed, his anxiety making his voice crack up high. Why wasn’t his brother taking this more seriously?

“If mosters make twees, door mus open,” Papyrus answered matter-of-factly. “If mosters take us, we go out door an leave. Come back home here.”

“Pap,” Sans whined in frustration, burying his eyes in his sleeves to dry his tears. “It’s not that easy! We can’t just walk out the front door! There will be guards there, they aren’t going to let two little kids wander out of the cavern. And that door is the only exit—the tunnel’s closed off, remember? So how are we gonna get home?! We can’t just snap our fingers and—”

Sans froze. He stared ahead in realization, his eyes growing wide.

There _was_ another way.

“Actually...,” he said slowly, returning his eyes back to Papyrus’. “You know how you found out that you could do healing magic by accident when you were trying to save me?”

Papyrus answered with a nod.

“Well, I found out that I could do a new kind of magic, too.”

Papyrus’ eyebrows raised in awe. “Gween?”

Sans shook his head. “No, not green. And what’s interesting is that I first did it when _I_ was trying to save _you_. I can instantly be somewhere else.”

The confusion on the little skeleton’s face coaxed Sans to elaborate.

“Ok, so, remember that place where we found the mouseshroom nightlights?”

“Yeah?” Papyrus answered, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I could go there right now. And then come right back here.”

Papyrus’ eyes widened and he gasped in awe. “Wowie!”

“Yeah!” Sans grinned, his fears slipping away. “And I already know that I can take you with me, so if we get caught, I just need to find you, hang on to you, and take us right back here!”

Papyrus raised his arms up above his head in triumph. “Yeah!”

Sans smiled down at his brother, feeling much better having a solid exit plan. He was so glad he talked this out with his brother, even though he was so young.

“And,” Sans continued, following the trail of optimism. “We may not even need to worry about that. You’re right, why would they be out here in the cold with us, when they have their nice, warm cavern to live in? And even if they _do_ come out, we can be careful about walking around, look for any of their footprints, and keep an eye out for them. We know they’re in there, but they don’t know _we_ are out _here._ And if they try to chase us, I’ll bring us somewhere safe in an instant.”

Papyrus nodded emphatically. “Yup!”

Sans leaned over and hugged his brother. “Thank you so much, Pap. You made me feel so much better. I’m not as scared and worried anymore.”

His brother hugged back tightly. “Welcome, Sas. Pa potec Sas. No scayerd, no wowwied no more.”

Sans nuzzled in to the side of Papyrus’ head, grateful to have such a smart, positive, and wonderful brother.

Over the next several days, the brothers didn’t leave the shelter, unless it was to retrieve snow. Sans wanted to get steadier on his feet before they attempted going outside again in case they were seen and they needed to run. So he spent the days exercising and strengthening his weakened limbs.

He started off by walking circles around the main room, first with Papyrus holding him to support him, then, when he was stronger, on his own. Aside from walking, he took time to strengthen his limbs with squats, lunges, pushups, and dips—exercises he had learned by watching their mother do her morning routine to keep in Royal Guard shape. As he did his workouts several times a day, Papyrus would copy his movements, and Sans couldn’t help but smile.

But Papyrus’ favorite exercise was Sans’ weight training—because _he_ was the weight. Sans would lay on his back, and Papyrus would stand in front of his knees. Sans would then curl up and grab Papyrus’ outstretched hands and rock onto his back, bringing his brother up over him, suspended on his knees and hands. The little skeleton couldn’t help but giggle as he was held up in the air looking down at his brother. Sans would then lower his legs and arms, bringing Papyrus close to him, then pushed back up, raising the squealing skeleton. Sans would start counting as he grunted, then Papyrus would take up the counts each time he rose into the air, giggling with each number.

Sans felt so much better after his workouts, he decided that, even after he had strengthened his limbs back to normal, he would continue doing workouts with his brother to keep their bones strong. A morning routine, just like their mother’s.

About a week after they spotted the forest, Sans felt strong enough to attempt a trip outside to explore the forest near the cavern. He especially wanted to check for any footprints that strayed from the line of trees towards other parts of the valley—especially any that ventured in the direction of their shelter.

He emptied out the haversack onto the floor, put away any items that would be damaged by sitting in the snow, and shouldered it while Papyrus put on his shoes. Sans debated on whether or not he should go without the haversack, in case they needed to make a run for it, but in the end decided to bring it in case they came upon something useful to forage.

They exited the shelter and covered up the entrance, then Sans peered around, eyes straining for any signs of movement. When there was none, he led Papyrus away from the shelter in the opposite direction of the cavern. He wanted to make a wide circle around so that if they were spotted, they looked as if they had come from the darkened area at the edge of the valley, and not from where their shelter was located. They hid behind every boulder and stone formation they came across, making sure the coast was clear before moving swiftly to the next.

Slowly, Sans started headed towards the cavern. They crept cautiously towards the edge of the line of white pines, and as they approached, Sans realized that the forest was split down the middle by the torch-lit path. On either side, the forest was roughly thirty to forty trees thick, densely packed.

Not wanting to get caught walking down the path, Sans led Papyrus to the edge of the forest on the opposite side of the trail that their shelter was on, taking every precaution to keep their home location hidden. They slipped into the trees, careful to weave between the tall trunks. They didn’t need to worry about disrupting any branches—the trees had been created to branch out much higher up the trunk than normal pines. This confirmed for Sans that they needed these trees for their wood, not for cover.

They crept cautiously, peeking behind every tree as they neared the cavern’s door. Sans kept glancing at the torch-lit trail, noticing that there were no tracks in the snow that had accumulated on the path. This brought him much relief—perhaps creating these trees was the only reason they had ventured out of the cavern after all.

Sans was peeking around a tree when he felt his brother tug the hand he was holding. A chill of fear ran up Sans’ spine as he whipped around to his brother in panic. Papyrus pointed over at the forest floor wordlessly, and Sans breathed a huge—yet silent—sigh of relief.

On the ground were a couple pine cones. Sans rubbed the top of Papyrus’ head to let him know that he had made a great find—pine cones meant pine nuts. However, Sans was at a loss as to where to stow them—pine cones also meant sticky pine sap. He couldn’t risk putting them in either of their bags, since the sap would be impossible to get out of the fabric, so he racked his brain for an idea.

After much thought, he created several small loose white bones and tied them with twine, fashioning a small crate. They quickly gathered the pine cones, carefully placing them in the crate, straining not to make a sound. They continued their way through the thin forest, collecting cones along the way and checking for any signs of life.

Eventually they neared the cavern door, its purple door and violet frame slowly coming into view through the thick mass of trees. Sans slowed their already cautious pace to an inching creep as they proceeded further.

At last they were upon the cavern entrance, and Sans was extremely relieved to see that not only were there no tracks leading from the doors, but there was a large amount of snow blown up against the cavern entrance. This told Sans that, aside from making the forest, the door hadn’t been opened in a long while, perhaps only the once during Sans’ recovery.

Sans led Papyrus up to the cavern, and they walked across to the other side of the trail, hugging the cavern wall and doors. As terrifying as it was to walk past doors that could swing open at any moment, Sans knew that if they walked against the wall and doors, the doors would obliterate their footprints when they opened again.

Once they had entered the forest on their shelter’s side of the path, they continued through the forest, collecting cones as they went, their pace much faster. Sans kept a constant eye over his shoulder for any movement, but the lack of footprints and high snow mound against the door helped ease his fear of any monsters being in the vicinity.

As soon as they reached the end of the forest, they hurried over to hide behind a boulder, then made their way back to the shelter in a large circle around it, running from boulder to boulder as they progressed.

After a long while, they reached their shelter. Sans felt so much better after exploring the forest and seeing the entrance with his own eyes. Papyrus closed up the entrance as Sans pushed the crate of pine cones through.

They had collected quite a lot, and even though Sans knew this kind of pine cone didn’t produce as big or as many pine nuts as other pine trees, they would still be a great addition to their diminishing food stocks.

He took the crate into the fire room, created a few long loose white bones, and lined the bones on the left edge of the fire basin. He placed the pine cones on the new platform of bones so that they could dry out in the heat of the fire. Then he took a handful of snow and held it over the basin to melt so that he could wash away the sticky sap from his hands. He made the crate’s bones disappear and coiled up the twine, returning it to the haversack pocket.

Papyrus was sitting on the bed, his scarf, shoes, and bag still on, waiting for his brother.

“Ok,” Sans said as he shouldered the haversack again. “We’re going to need to get more mushrooms, and maybe check out more of that area. I’m going to take us there with my new magic so that we get there real quick, ok?”

Papyrus nodded, jumping off the bed. “Yup!”

“Alright,” Sans said, taking hold of Papyrus’ hand and grinning. “Let’s go.”

Sans shut his eyes and—

—the crash, the sound of his skull crushing, blinding pain, darkness, excruciation, fear, utter agony, the cave floor, shattered bones, his crumpled body, his fading soul.

He flinched violently, screaming out. “No! _No!_ ”

Sans let go of Papyrus to grab his skull as he shouted, his eyes shut tight, tears springing from them, his face contorted in pain. Every few seconds, his head jerked to the side as if being struck.

Papyrus stood there, looking up at his brother in fear. What was happening to him?

Sans collapsed to his knees, still screaming and flinching, then fell upon his side, curling up as he kept clutching his skull tightly.

Papyrus was at his side in an instant, desperate to help, but had no idea what to do. He put his hands on his brother’s arm, trying to comfort him.

“Sas...?”

Sans didn’t respond, but instead curled up tighter into himself, crying out as his head jerked to the side every few moments.

_“No! No!”_ he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Papyrus started to cry as he struggled to calm his brother down. Something was scaring him, hurting him, or both.

“Sas, _Sas!”_ he sobbed, putting his hands over those of his brother’s clutching his skull. “Sas, wass wron?! _Sas!_ ”

Suddenly, Sans’ body relaxed, and he was no longer screaming out. He let go of his head, his arms falling down limp as his body heaved, gasping for breath. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked, sweat pouring down his temples.

Papyrus knelt down in front of him, putting his hands back on his brother’s skull and his face close to his own.

“Sas...,” the little skeleton called, tearfully.

It took a moment for Sans to focus his vision, then he looked at Papyrus with his own tear-filled eyes.

“P-Papyrus...?” he whispered, still out of breath, staring at him as if he hadn’t seen him in years.

“Sas, wass wron?” Papyrus sobbed. “Wass wron, Sas?”

“Wh-where am I?” Sans gasped, eyes darting around the room.

“Sas, we home,” the little skeleton answered, concern pouring out with his tears. Why was he asking where he was? Didn’t he know?

Sans looked around, struggling to catch his breath, then pressed the bottoms of his palms into his eyes. He was so confused and terrified. He struggled to regain his focus.

Then he remembered. He wasn’t in the cave, he was at the shelter. His body wasn’t broken, it had healed. He wasn’t dying alone, he was safe with Papyrus.

_Papyrus!_

He moved his hands from his eyes and looked up. When he saw Papyrus in front of him, he lifted himself up to his knees and threw his arms around his precious brother, hugging him so tight against him, Papyrus felt his bones pop. Sans sobbed into his brother’s shoulder, his body trembling, afraid to let go of Papyrus as if he would disappear.

Papyrus stood, stunned by the sudden, crushing embrace. He couldn’t move his arms, so he gently nuzzled his head against his brother’s, still immensely worried about what had happened to him.

Soon, Sans calmed down, returning to the present. He let go of Papyrus and sat back on his legs, burying his face in his hands.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he stammered. “I don’t know...I don’t know what happened to me....”

Papyrus stood in front of him, helplessly, drying his own tears on his sleeves.

Sans lowered his hands from his face to look at his brother. “Th-that magic.... When I found out I could do it, I tested it.... Where I was able to go.... A-and th-then...I...I tried...to go home...our _real_ home.... And—”

—the crash, his skull crushing, his bones breaking, the agony.

Sans’ head jerked violently to the side again, his eyes shut tight as he screamed once more.

_“No!”_

He turned his head forward again, gasping for breath. He was trembling again, a chill running through his body. His eyes opened wide, darting around the room.

Papyrus was wringing his hands, his lower lip quivering. He didn’t know if touching Sans made his pain or fear worse, so he remained frozen on the spot.

Sans shifted, moving his legs out from under him to sit on the floor as he strove to calm down. He unshouldered the haversack and pushed it away in an effort to unburden himself as much as he could.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated, still panting for air. “Something’s wrong with me....”

Papyrus crept over silently and sat next to his brother, putting a trembling hand on Sans’ knee. Sans looked down at him and covered his hand with his own.

A terrifying realization sank into his soul. He shuddered, then leaned forward, putting his other hand on the floor to hold him up.

“The magic we need...if we get caught...taken to the cavern...separated.... I...I can’t do it anymore.... I can’t do the magic anymore....”


	19. Chapter 19

The soft crackle of the magical flame drifted throughout the shelter, its gentle rhythm reminiscent of the pattering of raindrops on windows. The sound was lost on the ears of the little skeleton, sitting in silence on the bed, watching his brother.

Sans was laying on his side, curled up, facing the wall, and had remained motionless for a long time. Papyrus had crept into the bed to sit next to him, unsure if his brother was sleeping or lying awake. He didn’t dare touch him, since he didn’t know if he was in pain, especially given all the contorting and violent jerking his body had made. So he just sat there, watching his brother’s back sadly, lending his presence as the only form of comfort he could offer his hurting brother.

Sans had been staring at a particular spot on the wall since he had set his head down on the bits of fabric he had gathered up. He was too upset to cry, too wound up to sleep. All he could do was _think._

What was wrong with him?

What was happening to him when he tried to do that magic? When he was thinking about that...time? Why did it feel like he was experiencing it all over again? Was he losing his mind? Going crazy? What were they going to do now if they were captured? If he couldn’t get him and his brother out of the cavern with his magic, there was no way they’d escape and continue living their lives together. Why could he do it before, but not now, when they needed it? When they needed him to jump from place to place to get food or to escape if spotted?

_What is wrong with me?!_

He couldn’t do this new magic, simple as that. He was too stupid to even understand how to master it. Look at how long it took him to even _try_ to do it. How many times did he mess it up before he finally figured out all the steps? He was so dumb, the first two times he did it were a complete accident. Why on earth did he think he would be able to have the intelligence to grasp the simple steps this magic required? And now, he was so damaged, he couldn’t do it anymore. Not damaged in the body—damaged in his stupid, broken mind. How pathetic! So afraid to mess up again and find his body crushed again. Because that’s what happened—he messed up. Couldn’t even do the magic right, then winds up battered in the very cave that his mother left him and his brother in. The cave where his mother trusted he would take care of his brother. How was _that_ turning out?! Papyrus is out here starving, alone, freezing—for crying out loud, he almost died because of him! He can’t do _anything_ right. Maybe it’s best if they _do_ get caught—that way Papyrus will have a normal life, a healthy life, _a better life_. A life without him.

_Useless._

_Worthless._

_Should have just died in that cave._

_Papyrus would have been better off._

Papyrus didn’t know why, but something deep in his soul urged him to put his hand on his brother’s shoulder at that moment.

The sudden touch made Sans jump, gasping sharply. His eyes opened wide, and the thoughts were immediately halted.

Papyrus felt bad for scaring his brother, but he kept his hand on Sans’ shoulder. He started rubbing it soothingly, not knowing what else to do for him.

Sans relaxed from the initial shock, curling up tighter into himself as he felt Papyrus’ hand on him. He shut his eyes tight and began sobbing.

Papyrus’ heart broke for his brother. Why was he so sad? He still didn’t understand anything that was going on, and it made him feel utterly helpless.

Sans heard the dark thoughts seep back into his mind, wishing they would stop, but knowing they were right.

Papyrus couldn’t bear to hear his brother crying so hard anymore. He stepped over his brother to be in front of him and got down to lie beside him. Then he hugged his brother as best he could, nestling his head into Sans’ chest.

Sans wrapped his arms around his brother tightly, curling up to hug his brother with his whole self, and cried, loudly and uncontrollably, into his brother’s shoulder. The dark thoughts dissipated into the nothingness they had come from.

Sans lay sniffling, exhausted from his inner torment. Papyrus never broke the hug, never stopped holding on.

Sans finally found the strength to speak. “...I’m so sorry.... Pap, I’m so sorry....”

Papyrus’ words were muffled as he still had his cheek pressed against Sans’ chest. “Why Sas sorry? Nufin for Sas to be sorry bout.”

Sans uttered a painful groan, giving his brother a squeeze. “Yes, I do, Pap.... Yes, I do....”

Papyrus shook his head against his brother’s chest. “No, Sas. Sas did nufin wron.”

Sans whimpered, hugging his brother tighter. Papyrus understood this to mean that his brother didn’t believe him.

The little skeleton pushed back and sat up, cross-legged, near Sans’ head. His brother’s eyes were open, but didn’t follow him.

Papyrus gave a frustrated, worried sigh, putting his hands on his knees.

“No! Sas. Did. Nufin. Wron!” he said, punctuating each syllable strongly, his tone firm, almost angry.

Sans shut his eyes tightly, his brow furrowed in guilt.

Papyrus grabbed his brother’s skull at the cheekbones with shaky hands.

_“Lookit me!”_ he cried out, his voice shrill.

Sans’ eyes snapped open, looking up into his brother’s eyes fearfully.

Papyrus’ face was livid, but his voice betrayed his sorrow. He kept his hands on Sans’ head, making sure his brother didn’t turn away.

“Sas did nufin wron. Pa don know why Sas hurt or mad or sad. Pa here wif Sas, wanna fix Sas. But Sas don wanna tell Pa wass wron.”

Sans laid there, his head held up by Papyrus. He kept looking into his brother’s narrowed eyes until the shame made him turn his eyes downward.

“Does Sas no love Pa anymore?”

Sans gasped, his eyes returning to his brother’s instantly, widening. Papyrus’ eyes were fierce, yet his lip quivered, terrified to hear the answer. 

Sans immediately sat up, facing his brother, speaking as he shifted, his eye contact never breaking. “No, no no no, of course I still love you.”

He pulled Papyrus’ hands into his own.

“Papyrus, I could never stop loving you. You’re my brother....”

Papyrus looked up at him, the fire still in his eyes. “Den _tell_ me! Wass wron, Sas?”

“Pap,” Sans spoke softly. “It’s so complicated, you wouldn’t understand....”

“Is Pa dumb?”

Sans blinked. “Wh-? No, of course you’re not dumb.”

“Den tell me, Sas. _Den_ see if Pa unustan.”

Sans shut his eyes and sighed, defeated. “Ok....”

He let go of Papyrus’ hands and folded them under his ribcage, laying on his lap. Struggling to find the words to begin, he rocked slowly. Papyrus sat patiently, his angry expression melting into concern.

There was no sense sugarcoating it.

“I did something incredibly stupid....”

This was so much harder than he thought.

“...And I messed up. Really, _really_ bad....”

His brother was listening to every word, refusing to interrupt, even though his eyes twitched, indicating that he really wanted to interject. Sans wished he would, so he didn’t have to confess any more. But he continued.

“It was that day we were so tired from walking, and we both fell asleep as soon as we got here. I woke up, and you were sleeping, so I went out to get snow, because we were out. And I was still so tired, my legs hurt, and I knew we had to go all the way back out the following day, and I just....”

Sans was breathing heavily, his words coming out more and more rapidly. He caught himself, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. He exhaled slowly, opened his eyes, then continued at a calmer pace. Papyrus listened intently.

“I thought about the place where we finished foraging for the day, and tried to figure out how to make our trips easier on us, and....somehow, I was _there._ ”

Papyrus’ eyes opened wide, his mouth dropping, but still remained silent.

“I...I was just _there._ And I remembered that when I found you in the snow.... Wh-when I was desperate to get you back here.... I somehow _got here._ So I knew I had done it before, and I had brought you with me. I was so happy, because I finally found a way we could look for food without walking for so long and so far. It took me a while to figure out how I even did it. When I did, I was able to get to the place with the mushrooms, and even the tunnel in the cavern.”

Sans shut his eyes and sighed, forcing himself to continue. Papyrus hung on every word patiently.

“Th-then, I did something incredibly stupid, Pap.... I thought, ‘hey, let’s see if I can go to our old house....’ And...and I was so excited to be able to see our house again, and...and I thought maybe Daddy was there, waiting for us, and that’s why we haven’t found him yet...and I just wanted to see him again, then come back and take you home, and be a family again....”

Tears were trickling down Sans’ face as the words started coming out in sharp sobs. Papyrus looked up at him sadly as he went on.

“...So, I tried to go there...and then—”

—the crash, his skull, his arms, his leg, his chest, the pain.

He flinched violently again, but suppressed the urge to scream out, stifling it with a clenched grunt. Papyrus gasped, moving towards him slightly, but decided against interrupting his brother with words or his touch. Sans turned his head back forward, breathing heavily, giving himself a moment before he continued speaking.

“Th-then, something went wrong. Terribly wrong, Pap.... It all happened so fast, but...I...I must have hit that clear wall that appeared in the cave up above the hole. _That’s_ how I got hurt.... And I was laying there, in _so much pain_ for _so long_.... And I knew I was dying.... All I wanted to do was come back to say...to say goodbye to you.... So, I used all the strength I had left to use the magic and came back here...where you found me.... An-and, and—” The floodgates he had been holding up finally broke. “—and it’s all my fault! You _never_ should have seen me like that! You _never_ should have seen me in that condition! I scared you! I hurt you! I practically _died_ right in front of you! It’s my fault you have nightmares _every night_ now! It’s my fault we can’t get more food because I can’t even _do_ the magic now without feeling like the accident is happening all over again! It’s my fault we’re going to get caught because I can’t bring us back here because I’m _too stupid and broken to do it anymore!_ But maybe we _should_ get caught, because you’d be better off without me! They can take better care of you then I _ever_ could! I deserve to lose you! It’s all my fault! _It’s all my fault!!!_ ”

He buried his face in his hands and wept bitterly, his shoulders shaking.

Now Papyrus knew. Everything made so much more sense now. It was like watching puzzle pieces slide into place. He stood up and sat in his brother’s lap and hugged him. Sans wrapped his arms around him and cried on his shoulder.

“Pa better wif Sas,” Papyrus whispered. “Pa _always_ better wif Sas.”

“...N-no you’re not...,” Sans sobbed weakly.

“Pa don wan anybody else. Pa on’y wan Sas. Pa love Sas more dan anyfin. Pa love Sas, an will nevah leave Sas. An if Pa lose Sas, Pa nevah be happy evah agan. Pa on’y happy wif Sas, cuz Pa love Sas so, so, _soooo_ much.” He emphasized this with a tighter hug.”

“But Papyrus,” Sans protested with a whimper. “I messed up so bad. I was so stupid. So stupid.... and now...now I’m useless....”

“Sas no stupid, no looseless,” Papyrus said firmly. “Dis no Sas’ fault. Sas din do anyfin wron. Pa no mad at Sas for gettin hurt. Sas had axyden, no Sas’ fault.”

“I’m so sorry, Papyrus.... I should never have done something so stupid.... You...you were all alone.... I could have been killed, and you’d never have known what happened to me....”

Papyrus rubbed his brother’s back gently. “Sas din know....”

The anger Sans held for himself rose up, his words spitting out through clenched teeth. “I should have known! I should have been smarter than that! I shouldn’t have done something so stupid with magic I wasn’t even sure how to use!”

Papyrus pulled back to look up at him. “Sas din know. Sas no stupid. Sas use magic, it work dere, dere, an dere. Sas din know magic no work to go home.”

Sans’ anger receded slightly. “Well...no, but—”

“Sas din know, so Sas try.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No,” Papyrus interrupted firmly, yet gently. “When Sas show Pa howda make blue bones, Pa din know. So Pa try.”

Sans wiped his eyes and stopped sobbing, utterly confused, trying to understand where Papyrus was going with this. “Yeah...?”

“Pa din know if Pa make bones go WOOSH an hurt Sas an Pa,” the little skeleton said, swiping his arm to illustrate.

“Well, no, but—”

“Pa din know, but Pa try anyway. Cuz Sas say it ok.”

“Yeah,” Sans said, blinking. “Of course it would be ok, I showed you how to do it, and there wouldn’t have been any way you could have made blue bones shoot off with the way I showed you.”

“Zactly!” Papyrus exclaimed. “Sas _show_ Pa howda do blue so blue work and no hurt!”

“But—”

“Sas don have anybody to show howda make magic to go dere, dere, an dere! Sas don have anybody to say ‘Do dis, Sas, dis right. No, Sas, don do dat, dat hurt.’ Sas don have anybody to show, so Sas din know. Sas no stupid, no looseless. Sas din know, so Sas try. Sas got hurt, but Sas din know would hurt. Sas din know, not Sas’ fault.”

Sans’ eyes were wide open, as was his mouth.

His brother was right.

Sans discovered a form of magic he found he could do by accident, and had no one to guide him with it. There was no way he could have known it would have caused himself so much harm. He didn’t know anything about it, so all he could do was experiment with it. After succeeding in getting to different locations, he had no reason to believe the outcome that nearly killed him would have happened. He had no way of knowing. Why was he being so hard on himself for making such an innocuous mistake?

Sans hugged his brother tightly, feeling like an enormous weight had been lifted from his soul. “Papyrus, you are the most brilliant skeleton in the world....”

“No, Sas,” Papyrus answered. “You mos bilyint skeleyton in da wold. Sas _dis_ much more smart dan Pa.” He leaned back and stretched his arms out as wide as he could.

Sans raised an eyebrow and grinned mischievously, unable to help himself. “Oh yeah?”

He tickled his brother under his outstretched arms, sending Papyrus into a fit of squirming giggles. Sans wrestled him to his back, relentlessly tickling his ribs, sides, and under his chin. Papyrus writhed this way and that, trying to escape his brother’s seeking fingers that were everywhere upon him, squealing and laughing.

“Sas! No! Stop!” He struggled to utter between giggles. “No tickle Pa!”

Sans leaned back on his knees, letting Papyrus go. The little skeleton gasped for breath as his giggling died off. Without warning, Sans resumed his tickle attack.

The shrieks of laughter bounced off the walls of the shelter as the little skeleton wiggled and twisted on the mat, helpless to defend himself against his big brother’s gleeful onslaught.


	20. Chapter 20

Sans stood out in the snow just outside the shelter, trembling fiercely. He sucked in air in sharp gasps, struggling to breathe, and staggered. His legs and knees were too weak and could no longer support him. They buckled, forcing him to collapse upon his stomach.

He slowly shut his eyes as he feebly slammed his left hand down on to the snow.

“I...I can’t—”

The day before, after the tickle fight and dinner, Sans sat with Papyrus on the bed quietly. Sans had been in deep thought throughout the meal about his new magic—or rather, his _failure to do_ his new magic.

Thanks to his brother, Sans understood that he shouldn’t harbor any blame or guilt for what led to the accident. That didn’t, however, answer why he couldn’t do the magic without feeling like the accident happened all over again. He needed to figure that out— _fast_ —because their food supplies were dangerously low.

It had been weeks since they had last foraged for food—aside from the pine cones—and they desperately needed to get to the darkened area for more mouseshroom nightlights. But with the threat of monsters leaving the cavern, walking out in the valley for hours at a time was exceedingly risky. Sans needed to get his magic to work, or his brother would starve.

Papyrus could tell that Sans had something on his mind, so he nudged his brother’s knee as he sat across from him on the bed.

“What Sas finkin bout?”

Sans snapped out of his train of thought and blinked back to reality. He sighed deeply, rubbing the sides of his lap nervously.

“I’m thinking about that new magic, and why I can’t do it anymore. Every time I think about doing it, I keep feeling like I’m getting hurt all over again.”

Papyrus’ eyebrows creased worriedly. “Sas hurt?”

Sans waggled his hands. “No, no, I’m not _actually_ getting hurt again. It just _feels_ like I am.”

Sans heaved another sigh.

Papyrus looked down and played with a bit of fabric by his foot. “M’sorry....”

“It’s ok,” Sans said, leaning back on the bed, supporting himself up with his hands by his sides.

“Mebbe—” Papyrus started, then went quiet, focusing on the fabric piece.

Sans sat back up, urging him to continue gently. “Maybe what?”

“No, s’dumb,” he mumbled, eyes still down.

Sans’ face furrowed momentarily. “Nothing you say is ever dumb, Pap. You’ve got brilliant ideas, you know that.”

The side of Papyrus’ mouth twitched, not believing his brother’s words.

Sans leaned down in front of his brother’s face and grinned. “Papyrus, you have some of the best ideas I’ve ever heard. If you don’t believe me, then I will tickle you again until next week.”

At this, Papyrus giggled, curling himself up to prevent any tickling fingers from finding his weak spots. “No!”

 _“Yes,”_ Sans said, a mischievous grin growing on his face.

“Kay, kay,” the little skeleton conceded. “But Pa don know if Sas fink it dumb. Pa don know if Sas feel hurt wif it.”

Sans tilted his head, his grin dying. “I’m sure it won’t hurt me, Pap. What is it? Really, I’m desperate to try anything to get this magic to work.”

Papyrus took a deep breath and released it. “Well, Sas say he go dere, dere, dere an not get hurt, right?” He pointed out various directions with each “dere”.

“Yeah,” his brother said, sitting up straight. “I was able to go to a few different places before. And...and then—” He flinched.

“Tell Pa where Sas go,” Papyrus said, looking up at him.

“Well,” Sans said, holding up a hand and counting on his fingers. “The first time was just outside, and that was when I was carrying you with me. The second was out on the trail in the spot we had finished. Then I went to the darkened area, then the tunnel, then—”

“Stop!” Papyrus shouted suddenly, making Sans jump.

“Wh-what?” Sans gasped.

“Don say more places. Das enough.”

Sans blinked, then twisted his eyebrows in confusion. “Um...okay...?”

Papyrus pointed at his brother’s face. “When Sas fink bout uver places, Sas don hurt, don make face like dis.” He imitated Sans’ flinching expression.

“Well, no,” Sans agreed.

“Sas on’y have one axyden, right?”

“Yeah...just the one.”

Papyrus grinned. “Sas! Das good!”

Sans raised an eyebrow and frowned. “Pap, in _what_ world is that good?!”

The little skeleton shook his head “No, no. Axyden not good. On’y one is good!”

Sans blinked wide as he shook his head slowly, thoroughly confused, and didn’t even know how to answer. Papyrus sensed he wasn’t getting through, so he explained further.

“Sas go outside wif Pa—no axyden. Sas go farway snow we dig—no axyden. Sas go darky ayea—no axyden. Sas go tunnel—no axyden. Den, Sas have axyden.”

Sans watched as Papyrus held up four fingers on his hand. “Das four no axydens.” He held up his other hand with a single finger. “And on’y one axyden.”

“Ok,” Sans said slowly. “I see what you’re saying....”

“One axyden—don fink bout.” He hid the hand with one finger behind his back. He moved the hand with four fingers closer to Sans. “Four no axydens—on’y fink bout dem.”

“That’s great and all, Pap,” Sans sighed. “But it’s not that easy. I wasn’t thinking about the accident when I started feeling like I was going through it again.”

“Pa know,” he said, putting his hand down. “But las time Sas do magic, Sas have axyden, and dat what Sas fink bout.”

Sans blinked, looking away as his brother’s words seeped in. Sans wasn’t sure _what_ he was thinking about the day before when he tried to get him and his brother to the darkened area, but that _had_ to have been in the back of his mind.

“I don’t know, Pap,” he said, returning his eyes to his brother. “I wasn’t really thinking about it at all. What if it’s too deep in my mind? What if I never get over it?”

Papyrus looked up at his brother sadly, recalling a detail his brother had mentioned a while back. “Sas had axyden where Mommy was....”

Sans flinched, grabbing his head and shutting his eyes tight. After a few seconds, he opened them and let his hands fall back to his lap as he grunted his answer. “Y-yeah....”

“Dat way Sas an Pa come in, dat have big winnow in it now.”

Sans tilted his head, his breath steady now. “A ‘big window’?”

Pap answered, illustrating with his hands. “Yeah, big winnow Sas an Pa bang on but no open.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sans said, realizing what his brother meant. “That clear wall blocking the opening. Yeah.”

“Pa fink dat big winnow bad.”

Sans clutched his chest, thinking of how he had been pinned in the barrier as it came down over the cave opening. How it had sliced through his soul, permanently reduced his health, almost killed him— _twice_ , now—and how it trapped them inside the mountain. He whined just thinking about it.

“Yeah, Pap.... That big window is _definitely_ bad....”

“Dat winnow not in da four no axydens,” Papyrus stated, putting his hand on his brother’s knee.

“No,” Sans answered, his voice still low. “No, it’s not.”

Papyrus stood up and took hold of his brother’s face by the cheekbones to look him squarely in the eyes.

“Dat big winnow make axyden. Don go to big winnow. Uver places safe fom big winnow, so Sas can go to uver places wifout gettin hurt.”

Sans cringed sadly, really wishing it was as easy as his little brother made it seem. He averted his eyes again, doubt creeping into his mind.

Papyrus put his forehead against Sans’ and looked squarely into his brother’s eyes. He spoke firmly, yet softly.

“Big winnow make axyden. Not Sas. Sas can do magic. Pa bewieve in Sas.”

Sans shut his eyes for a moment, then reached up and pulled his brother in for a hug.

“Thanks for believing in me, Papyrus.... That means a lot....”

Sans slept on his brother’s words, waking up a couple times from nightmares of the incident. While his sleep might have been broken, he was extremely glad to see that Papyrus wasn’t having any of his own nightmares. Looks like the talk they had did them _both_ good.

After each nightmare, Sans tried to push the fear and anxiety away and struggled to focus on the times he had succeeded with his magic—just as Papyrus had suggested. It was extremely hard to do, as the dark thoughts were louder than the good ones.

Fortunately, the fight between the two sides was so exhausting, Sans fell asleep quickly each time.

Sans regretted eating breakfast. The mushrooms sat heavy in his nervous stomach, making him feel slightly ill.

Sans regretted deciding to try the new magic after breakfast even more. Why did he agree to Papyrus’ suggestion?

Sans sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall across from him as his brother sat beside him silently. He tried to keep his mind on the positives, while the reasons he shouldn’t even bother attempting it crawled up and choked at him.

Papyrus broke his silence gently. “Sas did good so far.”

Sans gave a short, hollow laugh and stared at his hands. “Yeah....”

Earlier that morning, Papyrus mentioned that he should think about doing the magic before actually attempting it, so that his fear became more manageable.

So Sans went through every step except the final one—taking a literal step forward. The first few times he tried, he flinched as soon as he shut his eyes. Papyrus was right there, comforting him with soothing words and gentle hugs.

Then he was able to focus on where he wanted to go—the darkened area. This also started off difficult, as the picture of the area with the mouseshroom nightlights and glowing gems in the wall soon turned into the dark cave with its iridescent barrier that taunted his mind. At last, he could clearly see the darkened area and was able to hold on to the image.

By breakfast, Sans had been able to get through all but the final step without flinching. Papyrus thought this was an amazing breakthrough and used breakfast to celebrate.

Sans wished he had an ounce of his brother’s confidence in him. Papyrus didn’t have any idea what a mess up his brother really was....

Papyrus put his hand on his brother’s back, leaning his head on his brother’s arm. “Really, Sas did good so far. Sas can do it.”

Sans heaved a deep sigh, then stood up from the bed. He had to get this over with, hesitating was only making things worse. And he needed to do this now—the mushrooms they had eaten were the last pair. They didn’t have enough food for dinner, so time to get this magic right had all but run out.

“O-ok,” Sans stammered, his voice as shaky as his legs. “I’m just going to try a short trip, in case anything bad...happens....”

He started rethinking the whole thing, then shook his head, wiping the doubts away.

Papyrus jumped off the bed and took Sans’ hand.

“No, Pap,” Sans said, turning to him. “I don’t dare take you with me yet.”

The little skeleton looked up sadly.

Sans hugged him tightly. “Papyrus, I still don’t know if this is going to work. If _anything_ ever happened to you, I’d _never_ forgive myself. I have to make this first trip by myself.”

Papyrus hugged back, his voice betraying his hurt. “Ok....”

“And listen,” Sans said, pulling back to face his brother. “I’m going to try to go right outside. If anything happens to me, I’m depending on you to heal me. You’ve got a far more important job than I do, so that’s why I can’t take you with me. I’m not leaving you behind, Pap. I need you here to help me if something goes wrong.”

Papyrus’ face lit up momentarily, then he raised his eyebrow and grinned heroically. “Pa potec Sas. Pa fix Sas wif gween if hurt.”

“Great,” Sans grinned, rubbing the top of his brother’s head. “I knew I could depend on you.”

Sans went to stand in the center of the main room. Papyrus backed up against the bed, keeping an eye on his brother.

Sans shifted from foot to foot nervously, breathing heavily in an effort not to hyperventilate. He shut his eyes as he tried to talk himself down under his breath.

“Oookay, Sans...you’ve got this, you can do this, just relax, just focus, just breathe, just....”

He whimpered, cringing at the thought of his body going through all that damage again.

“Sas!”

His eyes shot open at his brother’s call.

Papyrus stood in front of him, smiling. “I bewieve in you!”

Sans smiled warmly, bolstered by his brother’s words. He gave the little skeleton a nod.

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath in, held it, then released it slowly. He pictured one of the open areas just outside the shelter, keeping it firmly framed in his mind.

_It’s going to hurt...._

He flinched slightly, then shook his head. _No, I’ll be fine. I’ll be ok._

The image of the area came back into his mind’s view. He studied the snow, the placement of the boulders near it, and where the shelter was from its location.

_I really want to go there, I need to know if I can do this. I need to be in that spot, please take me there safely._

His feet felt like lead. Urging himself while holding the picture in his mind, repeating his desire to be there, he cautiously lifted his left foot. His entire body was shaking feverishly as panic gripped him tightly. He was terrified that laying his foot down meant he would be setting it at death’s door again.

_Please...keep me safe.... Please...I need to go there.... I need to know.... He is depending on me.... I want to go right there, right now...._

He moved his foot forward and felt it hit the floor. The deafening _fwoosh_ filled his ears, and he tried to cry out in terror, but the blast of wind pushed his voice back into his throat. The moment it started, the sensation ended, though his panic did not. He opened his eyes slowly.

Sans was standing out in the valley, just outside the shelter, trembling fiercely. He sucked in gulps of air in sharp gasps, struggling to breathe, and staggered forward. His legs and knees were too weak with relief from the fear he had embraced and could no longer support him. They buckled, forcing him to collapse down upon his stomach in the snow.

He slowly shut his eyes as he feebly slammed his left hand down on to the snow in triumph.

“I...I can’t—” he gasped. “I-I can’t believe it.... I did it.... _I did it_....”

Papyrus was running towards him, calling out for him. “Sas! _Sas!”_

Sans shakily raised his head to his brother’s voice. “Pap....”

The little skeleton flung himself onto the snow at his brother’s side. “Sas hurt?!”

Sans grinned weakly. “No...no, I’m fine.... Just... _tired_....”

With Papyrus’ help, he got up to sit in the snow. He was still breathing heavily.

Papyrus still looked concerned, and Sans shook his head.

“I’m ok.... I was just _so terrified_.... and when it happened, it was loud and fast, and I was so scared I was going to wind up hurt again.... I’m still shaking from being so panicked like that. I just need a minute, I’ll be fine.”

Sans sat back, putting his hands in the snow to hold himself up. He started laughing softly, his grin widening.

“Pap...I did it.”

Papyrus’ face split into a grin. “Sas did it!”

_“I did it.”_

Papyrus came in to give him a crushing hug, giggling happily.

“Pa knew Sas could do it! Pa beweived in you!”

Sans shut his eyes as he hugged his brother back, his relief and joy washing away the fear, anxiety, and doubts, leaving him exhausted and shaky, but happy. The two brothers held onto each other, laughing at Sans’ accomplishment, as swirls of snow danced around them in celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20?! When did that happen?!? 
> 
> Oh my gosh, I can't believe it's been 20 chapters already with these dear boys! I've been having an amazing time writing this story, and absolutely adore Sans and Papyrus like my own sons! (Plot twist--*I* am their father! haha, j/k....or AM I!?)
> 
> Thank you so, so, SO much for reading, for all the kudos, the awesome comments, and for sticking with these precious boys as they continue their struggles through their difficult life. I really hope you're enjoying it, as I absolutely love writing it!
> 
> Don't worry, this isn't anywhere near the end, there's still more to go! Here's to more chapters and more time with Sans and Papyrus!
> 
> Thank you again! :)


	21. Chapter 21

Sans had run through several more tests of his new magic over the next couple days, his fear diminishing with each successful attempt. The horrific images and feelings no longer rushed into his mind, and he was able to go from place to place quicker each time.

After a few tries of increasing distance, Sans took his haversack and went to the darkened area. He grabbed as many mouseshroom nightlights as he could frantically stuff into his bag and returned to the shelter, ensuring that they now had enough food for the next couple weeks.

He didn’t like leaving Papyrus alone in the shelter, but he wasn’t comfortable taking his brother with him until he was confident that the trips were safe. So he made sure each trip lasted no more than a few minutes so that he could return as soon as possible.

After half a dozen trips, Sans started feeling the fatigue of his magical drain. He was reluctant to take a piece of dried fruit, since he only wanted to use them in case of an emergency. So once he started feeling the weakness affect him, he stopped traveling for the day and rested up in the shelter.

“So, what’s it like,” Sans asked as he rested against the bed on the floor. “When I...you know... _go._ ”

Papyrus was sitting on the floor, playing with his tiny white bones. He jumped up and illustrated with gestures.

“Sas shut eyes like dis. Den, Sas walk, an big blue fiya gobble Sas up. Den Sas gone.”

Sans stared wide-eyed at his brother for a moment before blinking.

“Well, that sounds pleasant,” he gulped.

“Yeah,” Papyrus added as he went back to play with his bones. “Is cool!”

Sans blinked again, giving a false laugh. “Yeah...‘cool’.”

He was so glad he needed his eyes shut to do this new magic. Watching himself get devoured by a large blue flame was anything but ‘cool’ to him.

“Is it the same blue as our bone magic?” he asked curiously, pushing the idea of being set on fire out of his mind.

“No,” Papyrus answered, looking up at him. “Is blue like magic Mommy an Daddy make to make Sas an Pa go floatey.”

Sans furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

His parents knew how to use blue magic—darker blue than the light blue bone magic—which they used to either deaden Sans’ and Papyrus’ weights or to float them up like feathers. Sans had not seen them use it often, except in desperate situations.

Like the time Papyrus almost crawled over a cliff during a family night outing to watch the stars. Their father had made his brother’s soul turn blue, and he watched as Papyrus was lifted up and then pulled towards their father into his arms.

Then there was the time that a fierce storm broke the living room window. Their mother made their souls blue, and both Sans and Papyrus fell onto their stomachs as if their bodies were made of stone. While the boys stayed put, their mother cleaned up the glass. Once it was safe, their souls returned to their natural white color and they were able to move again.

So the magic that transported Sans to different locations was blue? Did that mean that Sans and Papyrus could do the blue magic as well as their light blue bone magic?

Sans held out his left hand at Papyrus, who was too busy playing with his bones to notice. Sans squinted his right eye so that his left eye widened, focusing on his brother’s soul deep within his chest, picturing it becoming blue in his ribcage. He tensed his fingers, gripping the air as if clutching the little skeleton’s tiny soul, and grunted deep in his chest. With great strain coursing through his left arm, holding his breath tightly in his lungs, he raised his hand to lift his brother up off the floor and into the air.

Nothing happened. Papyrus kept playing, unaware of anything that was going on around him. Sans’ arm dropped to his side as he caught his breath.

_Guess not...._

Sans laid his head back against the bed, looking up at the shelter’s ceiling, thinking things over as he rested, his body still tired.

Tired from having spent his last remaining ounce of magic on his return trip to the shelter a couple hours before.

The joyous expression on Papyrus’ face would not wane.

“Now, you’ve got to make sure you _do not_ let go,” Sans said for the umpteenth time as he paced around the little skeleton.

“Yup,” Papyrus nodded.

“And don’t pull me, I need to concentrate,” he warned, sticking his hands in his pockets, then pulling them out, only to stuff them back in again.

“Yup,” Papyrus answered.

“Don’t pull away, whatever you do,” Sans instructed, sliding his hands up and down the haversack straps around his shoulders nervously.

“Yup,” Papyrus responded.

“And _whatever_ you do,” Sans stressed, halting his pacing to stand in front of his brother. His voice was as shaky as his body. “ _Don’t panic!”_

“Yup,” Papyrus replied.

Sans started pacing again, running his hands over his head, wiping the sweat and fear from his skull. He tried to steady his breathing as his heart raced.

_This is wrong, it’s not safe, he could get hurt, what if he ends up like I did, why am I doing this, this is crazy, I shouldn’t be doing this, what was I thinking agreeing to this, we should just stay here—_

“ _Sas!”_

Sans froze, snapping out of his thoughts. He looked over at his brother—from the stressing tone in his voice, it wasn’t the first time Papyrus had called out to him just now.

“Sas, s’okay,” his brother said soothingly, smiling at his big brother. “We be okay.”

Sans looked at the confidence in his brother’s eyes and was encouraged. He sighed gratefully and nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll be ok.”

He held out his hand for his brother, and Papyrus grabbed it tightly.

“Ready?”

“Yup!”

“Ok,” Sans said, taking a deep breath. “Here we go....”

Sans shut his eyes, pictured the darkened area, and internally stated his desire to be there with his brother. Gripping Papyrus’ hand as if his life depended on it—which it did—Sans took a step forward. The two skeletons were engulfed with a blast of sharp wind, the loud _fwoosh_ hammering against them.

It was only a fraction of a second, but it felt like years to Sans. He opened his eyes and saw the glowing mushrooms, sparkling gems, and heard the distant running waters of the darkened area. But he didn’t care about any of that right now.

He fell down onto his knees in front of his brother in a panic. He held Papyrus’ skull in his hands as he looked up to inspect any damage.

“Are you ok?!” Sans gasped, eyes darting as they looked for cracks, fractures, or holes. “Are you hurt?!”

Papyrus put his hands over his brother’s, shut his eyes tight, and cried out.

_“Dat was so much fun!”_

Great relief washed over Sans as he pulled his brother to him, hugging him tightly.

The little skeleton hugged his brother back, finally answering his brother. “Pa okay, Sas, Pa not hurt. Sas did it!”

Sans stood back up on shaky knees, glad that his fears went unfounded. He took a deep, cleansing breath and blew out the last bit of anxiety. They were all right, that’s all that mattered.

“Ok,” Sans said, struggling to steady his voice. “Let’s go explore a little further, see what we can find. And once we get to a new place, I will be able to get back to it again, so I want to cover as much ground as we can before we go back.”

Papyrus nodded, clutching the little bag at his hip preparedly.

They walked forth, hand in hand, towards the particular area Sans had wanted to check out for a while—where the swaying plants were. As they neared, they were exactly what Sans hoped they would be.

Reeds.

A large reedbed stood situated in the middle of a path that ran through a small body of water. The reeds swayed in the gentle breezes as one organism, undulating like the waters it neighbored. Tall and thin, the shoots appeared to wave a welcome to the two skeletons as Sans stood there, smiling.

“This is perfect, Pap,” Sans said, squeezing his brother’s hand gently. “We can use these reeds for _tons_ of stuff. And, if we’re lucky, we will be able to eat some of them.”

He looked down at his brother and noticed that the little skeleton was imitating the swaying motion with his own body. It appeared Papyrus was happy with their new discovery as well.

Sans pulled out the sharp stone from his pocket and wasted no time in cutting down a large number of the reeds. He tied thick bundles of them up with twine and attached them to his haversack. They were quite cumbersome, but Sans didn’t mind, for their benefits outweighed their burden. He didn’t bother digging up their roots, since they still had no way to boil them, so he let them remain in the ground. 

They continued on, pushing past the remainder of the tall grasses and ventured deeper into the area.

It was considerably warmer than the snowy valley, and the maze of paths proved to be quite confusing. The darkness was broken only by the bioluminescent mushrooms and lucent gems, but Sans didn’t see a need to create a blue bone to light their way. Water was _everywhere_ , running along most paths and pooling in small ponds. There were many short waterfalls that cascaded down the various walls, spraying them with their fine mist as they walked past them. Their shoes sank into the dark blue hydric soil, their footprints filling up with water with each step. Sans looked back, dismayed that their footprints were easily trackable, but saw no way to prevent it.

Many of the gems were scattered on the ground, loose from their confines in the rocky walls. Sans picked one up, and he and Papyrus marveled at how it lit up in his hand. It wasn’t just reflecting light—it was creating it.

“Look, Pap,” he said, watching the blue light in his brother’s eyes. “It’s just like _our_ magic.”

Figuring they would be useful, the two brothers collected as many as they could find, stuffing them into their bags. They found multiple blue gems that shone with the same blue-white light as skeleton magic, and a few pink gems—which were not as common as the blue ones.

Many of the paths ran alongside steep cliffs, and Sans had to keep Papyrus on his other side for fear of him slipping off into the unknown. Waterways emptied out over these cliffs, creating narrow waterfalls. Sans gulped as he could hear the rushing of the waters as they poured over the side, but no splashing came from below. It was if the entire area was suspended above an enormous bottomless pit. Sans shuddered, hoping that none of the paths gave way under their feet, sending them down into nothingness.

Papyrus was in awe at the snaking paths, thin walkways, and treasure trove of glowing gems to be found. He found the area fascinating, albeit quite humid. His head panned side to side, eyes wide with wonder, not at all like his brother’s cautious, somewhat timid reaction to this new place.

After several hours of exploring paths, backtracking dead ends, and avoiding perilous drops, Sans decided to call it a day. He studied the area they were in so that he could picture it when he needed to transport back here.

In a few short moments, they were back in the snowy valley, right next to their shelter, the wintry chill sending shivers up their spines. It was a drastic change of temperature, and they had acclimated to the warmer climate in the darkened area.

“Woo!” Sans said, rubbing the sides of his upper arms. “That wind sure is _bone-chilling!”_

Papyrus gave a shaky giggle through chattering teeth.

They entered the shelter, warming up with the heat emanating from the ever-present magical flame. Sans took off his haversack and grabbed their soaked, muddy shoes, bringing them into the fire room. He took handfuls of snow and washed them as best he could, telling himself that they should wash them in the waters of the darkened area next time before coming heading home. Then he set them against the wall to dry.

Papyrus had emptied the lucent gems onto the floor and was lit up in blue and pink hues. He took each one into his hands and scrutinized them, turning them around this way and that. Sans smiled at his curiosity and wonderment over the gems.

Sans, however, was most excited about the reeds. He untied the bundles and sat on the floor, separating the young, edible shoots from the drier, older ones.

He heaved a sigh, remembering when his mother taught him to work with reeds she would collect at the nearby lake. Reminiscing, he felt a pang of sadness as he held them in his hands, tracing their shoots with his fingers. There was never a day that went by that he didn’t miss his mother terribly.

Blinking back tears, he set back to his task. He was mildly frustrated because he realized he wasn’t able to do too much with the reeds because of their tool limitations and his lack of skill. He did, however, know that raw young, green shoots were edible—and a little sweet, too—and that dried reeds could be made into woven items, like baskets—which they desperately needed. But he couldn’t boil them, or make flour from them, couldn’t even make those sugary sweets with them that they liked—he stopped himself from continuing the list, getting far too discouraged with what he _couldn’t_ do, and forgetting what he _could_ do with them.

Sighing, he stripped the leaves off to burn, and tied the older shoots in small bundles with twine at one end. He got up and went into the fire room and hung the bundles up on the warming rack bones so that they would dry out completely. He tossed the leaves and broken, useless pieces into the fire basin and watched as the flames lapped them up. He checked on the pine cones and saw that they would be fully dried out any day now, then went back to the green shoots.

There weren’t too many, and they weren’t the best food, but it was an addition to their already limited diet. And Papyrus might like them, even if they weren’t boiled like the ones they’d eaten in the past had been. He stood them up against the pantry wall and returned to his haversack.

He dumped out the gems, their amusing glow burning away the last bits of frustration he held. Papyrus was right to be in awe—they were fascinating. He’d never seen anything like these before, and he wondered if they were products of monster magic or an incredible part of the natural world. He spent some time going through them, wiping away loose stone and dirt from their edges and shining them with the snow on his pants to enhance their light.

Soon they prepared dinner—Papyrus roasting mushrooms in the fire room and Sans at the prep table tearing up half a reed shoot into smaller pieces and shaping some gem-shaped snow treats for dessert.

Sans was right, Papyrus enjoyed the sweet, crunchy reeds. They went surprisingly well with the mushrooms—Sans figured this made sense since they came from the same habitat. It was a good addition to their food supply, and Sans was happy for that.

They played together after dinner, then got ready for bed. Sans put the gems in the fire room so the light wouldn’t keep them awake as Papyrus smoothed out the fabrics that would cover them. Sans settled into bed, then raised his left hand up to make his blue bones disappear, darkening the room. Papyrus pulled up the fabrics and they settled in for a well-deserved night’s sleep.

Sans hugged his brother, nuzzling the top of his head. He sighed in gratitude that he had not only gotten better enough with his magic that he could forage again, but that his brother was safe after transporting. He hoped Papyrus would never experience the horror he had suffered, and was immensely glad his brother had been spared that pain.

The two brothers drifted off to sleep, too tired and content for dreams or nightmares play out in their minds.

It was distant. The groaning. The shouting. The creaking. It played in the recesses of Sans’ mind.

It got louder. The sounds drifted into his senses like a far-off dream.

The loud crunching sound is what woke both of them up with a start.

The two skeletons nearly jumped out of bed at the terrifying noise. If they hadn’t been in the belly of a mountain, Sans would have thought it was thunder. They sat there, confused and shaking, the sounds of their gasping breaths echoing off the shelter walls.

“Sas?” Papyrus’ whisper was tinged with a scared whine. “Wass dat?”

Before he could answer, they heard muffled shouting.

“Shh!” Sans shushed urgently, though he need not have done. Papyrus was frozen in fear, too afraid to make a sound.

Neither of them moved or breathed. Sans’ ears were straining to decipher more sounds.

Another groaning—what _was_ that?—then more creaking. Silence followed, then another loud crash, startling them again.

Sans turned to his brother. “Papyrus, do not move, do not make a sound, do not leave here. I am going to check it out. _Do not come out._ If it’s danger, I will come get you, but do not leave without me.” His voice shook, betraying his panic.

Papyrus nodded, tears brimming his eyes.

Sans slipped out of the bed slowly, expecting someone to burst into the shelter at any moment. He crept to the opening, wincing as the sounds continued. Formulating escape plans for him and his brother, he crawled out the opening and dug a small hole in the entrance. Peeking through to make sure no one was outside, he then dug the rest out and cautiously poked out his head.

The sounds were louder, but came from far behind him—near the cavern. He stood up on shaky legs, making sure no one was around, and closed the entrance back up. He inched his way around the shelter, then the boulder, and looked towards the cavern.

His eyes widened as he saw the source of the noise.

The forest near the cavern had thinned out. He could see movement within the trunks, but they were too far away for him to see clearly. There was shouting, but he couldn’t make out any words. Then he heard the groaning sound again—and saw the top of one of the trees leaning. There was an aching, creaking sound as the tree fell, then all was quiet. Suddenly, the loud crash of the tree hitting the ground resonated through the valley.

The monsters were cutting down the trees. They were back out in the valley again.

Sans rushed back into the shelter. He calmly told Papyrus what was going on as he grabbed his jacket. Papyrus relaxed a little until Sans told him he was heading back out again.

“I’m going to watch them, make sure they don’t go any further than the trees. You stay here, get some more sleep, and stay safe. The moment they start heading for the shelter, I will come back here and we’ll escape to the darkened area until it’s safe to come back. But you need to stay here while I watch them. Ok?”

“Kay...,” Papyrus whimpered, fear rising in him at the thought of being caught.

Sans finished shoving on his shoes and went over to the bed and hugged his brother tightly.

“I love you, Papyrus. No matter what happens, we’ll get through this. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, _ever_.”

“Love you, too,” Papyrus whimpered in Sans’ chest.

Sans went back to the opening, turning to his brother one last time.

“Stay here, stay safe. I’ll be back soon.”

Sans could see his brother nodding in the dimly lit room.

Sans left, sealed the opening, stood up, and, with a step, disappeared.


	22. Chapter 22

Sans transported to a group of boulders that overlooked the end of the forest and the large purple doors. He crouched down around one of the boulders and piled up a mound of snow to hide himself behind as he peered over it.

They were definitely monsters—not humans—and there were dozens of them. They worked in teams, some cutting the tall white pines down, others sawing the fallen trees into quarters, and the rest loading the logs onto long, narrow, four-wheeled carts. The large purple doors were wide open, and, once a cart was full and the logs had been strapped down, a few monsters grabbed the T-shaped beam at the front and pulled the cart laboriously through the doorway before disappearing into the depths of the cavern.

Sans focused on the movements of the monsters, making sure that none of them left the decimated forest. The monsters concentrated on their tasks, making quick work of the forest on the right side of the trail—the side their shelter was on. Sans could see the boulder grouping where their shelter was located in the corner of his eye in the distance. He would stay and watch the monsters for as long as he needed, ensuring that they didn’t stray further than the trees, while hoping he wouldn’t spot his brother leaving the shelter to look for him. 

As Sans watched, he noticed that the carts were piled quite high before being pulled away into the cavern. There were multiple empty carts lined up on the trail awaiting their loads, and no empty carts returned outside to be filled again. Sans was relieved by this, since it meant that the monsters might only be out here to collect the trees, and not to explore the rest of the valley.

After a while, the entire right forest was cleared. While the crew of monsters moved on to the left side, Sans noticed a few new monsters emerging from the cavern. They were not wearing overalls and work gloves like the others, but were adorned in casual cloaks to stave off the frigid temperatures of the valley. These monsters went over to the span of tree trunks and raised an arm, extending their hands over the former forest. Sans watched in shock as the trunks glowed white for a moment, then dissipated away—just like a monster’s body dusting off.

Sans struggled to hold it together as memories of his mother played out in his mind. He wanted to shut his eyes and block out the sight of the trunks’ remains blowing off into the wind, but he needed to keep watching to ensure Papyrus and their shelter were safe. The tears, however, he could not control.

After just a few moments, the trunks were completely gone, leaving the ground snow-filled and white once more. The cloaked monsters then walked throughout the area, bent down as they took something from pouches tied at their hips and placed the items on the ground in rows—they were too far away for him to see exactly what they were doing. As Sans wiped his eyes on his sleeve, he noticed that saplings were sprouting up where the trunks had been. He realized that their pouches were filled with pine seeds and that was what they were putting on the snow. They grew swiftly into tall, young trees, half the size of their predecessors.

_So the trees_ were _grown with magic,_ Sans thought, wiping his eyes dry and chancing a quiet sniffle. _Those must be monsters who can do agricultural magic._

_That_ was a magical skill Sans desperately wished he had—the ability to grow plants, crops, and trees anywhere, any season, and at a rapid growth rate. If he had that power, he and Papyrus would never have to worry about food again. Unfortunately, it was a form of magic that skeletons just didn’t possess.

Sans watched the monsters who had created the trees return into the cavern as the workers continued clearing the left-side of the forest. He wondered if there were other crops being grown in the cavern using agricultural magic. It made sense that there would be, since the thousands of monsters would have run out of food by now, so they would _need_ that magic to survive. It would also explain why the monsters didn’t leave the cavern to forage for food.

_Wonder what kind of food they have in there...._

Sans heard his stomach give a pleading growl, begging him to stop thinking about food since he wouldn’t be eating breakfast until the monsters were finished. Sans pushed thoughts of food out of his mind and continued watching the workers clear the forest.

At last they had finished clearing. The cloaked monsters came out again to remove the trunks and plant more white pines as the workers finished loading the last of the logs and packed up their gear. Sans watched as the workers loaded their tools, wrapped up in large tarps and tied with thick ropes, onto the back of the last remaining log-filled cart. The workers went ahead of the cart as it started moving ploddingly, pulled by four monsters at the front. The narrow cart eventually cleared the doorway, and the large set of purple stone doors swung slowly until they shut with a loud thud.

All was silent in the valley once more, and after a few moments’ hesitation, just to be sure, Sans heaved a huge sigh of relief. He allowed the tension within him to finally relax, his body having been braced, ready to run or move at a moment’s notice for far too long. He felt shaky, but glad.

_They just wanted the trees. They only wanted the trees...._

Sans remained in his hiding spot a few more minutes, ensuring that the doors did not swing open again, then stood up and transported back to the shelter.

He opened his eyes and ran for the entrance, eager to get back to his brother, who, he was sure, was in a panic by now. As he opened the entrance, he heard Papyrus give a whimpering gasp in fear, so he called out to him.

“It’s me, Pap! It’s me! It’s all right, they’re gone now.”

Sans entered, sealed the entrance, and crawled through the opening when he was struck by Papyrus’ body, who had flown from the bed to hug him.

Sans returned the hug, comforting his brother with shushing noises and gentle back rubs. Papyrus was whimpering and trembling, afraid he’d never see his brother again.

Sans let go only to enter the main room, then sat on the bed, with Papyrus following closely behind. He explained to his little brother what had happened, all that he had seen and heard, and soon Papyrus also relaxed with relief that the monsters had gone back into the cavern.

“We’re safe now, Pap,” Sans said soothingly, rubbing the top of his brother’s head affectionately. “And judging by the size of those trees, they won’t be back out for a while. Why don’t we have some breakfast, huh?”

Papyrus nodded, then slid off the bed to prepare the meal. Sans watched him grab the mushrooms from the prep table—Sans had placed them there the night before so that they were in Papyrus’ reach. His mind drifted as he looked from the prep table to their pitiful pantry, filled mostly with mouseshroom nightlights, green reeds, and little else. The image of the open cavern door popped into his mind.

_Wonder what kind of food they have in there...._

Over the next few weeks, Sans formulated a plan.

He thought about it as they foraged in the darkened area, collecting the same mushrooms and same reeds that had become their main source of food, every meal being exactly the same.

He devised the steps he would need to take as they ate their meager food stocks in their meager portions, as he watched Papyrus become weaker and gaunter over time because of their meager diet.

He prepared when they foraged down the watery paths, his eyes seeking out the luminous gems as he filled his haversack with them.

He made run-throughs of the plan in his mind repeatedly as he sat observing his brother during his bone magic lessons.

He weighed the risks against the benefits as he watched his brother eat pieces of snow for mid-meal snacks in place of food.

He did all this without letting Papyrus know what he was planning. If he did, his brother would be beside himself in worry, concern, and fear. His brother didn’t need to know, so he wouldn’t tell him.

And each day, Sans checked the trees, monitoring their growth.

Waiting.

A month after they had been jolted awake with the sounds of the forest being cleared, the noises returned.

They had been in the middle of breakfast when it started, the sudden sounds making them jump. Papyrus started to panic, but Sans calmed him soothingly.

“It’s ok, Pap. It’s just like last time. It’s ok. We’re going to be ok.”

Behind his reassuring demeanor, Sans was trembling with the frisson of anxiety.

_This is it._

“Pap, I’m going to go out and watch them again, make sure we’re safe, ok?”

The little skeleton looked up nervously and nodded.

Sans had to struggle to remain calm to his brother’s eye. He knew he had plenty of time before the workers finished and returned back into the cavern. His mind raced as he went through his plan for the millionth time before finally acting upon it. It was a strain to move slowly so as not to tip off Papyrus that he was up to something.

“You stay here, finish your breakfast, I’m just going to pack a few things up before I go,” he said, grinning encouragingly. “Last time I was out there, I wished I’d brought something to sit on, something to keep me warm in that snow.”

Papyrus mumbled an “okay” and turned back to his unfinished breakfast. Sans emptied his uneaten portion onto his brother’s burlap napkin and rubbed his head reassuringly.

He pulled the haversack off the bed and dumped out the contents that made it a sufficient pillow. Then he went into the fire room, glancing over to make sure that Papyrus still had his back to him as he ate.

He went to the pile of burlap and rough cloths he had placed against the wall and peeled back the top layers. Within the pile was a large cache of blue and pink lucent gems he had stored for this very moment. They were bundled up in scraps of cloth and tied with twine to not only hide them, but to make it easier for him to pack them into the haversack without alerting Papyrus. After he had carefully and silently placed the last bundle of gems into the bag, he fastened the straps.

The sounds outside continued, and his heart broke as he heard Papyrus gasp and whimper with each sound.

_I hate to leave you here alone, Pap, but.... I’m doing this for you...._

He strolled back into the main room with the bag in his hand while his mind urged him to run as fast as he could. He put on his jacket at an achingly slow pace, his heart racing. He shouldered the haversack, straining not to jostle the gems within. Then he went over to his brother.

“Pap, stay here, ok?” he said, rubbing the top of his brother’s head. “It’s just like last time—a bunch of loud noises, but nothing to worry about. I just need to make sure they go right back in, and not come near here. Don’t leave, whatever you do. Don’t leave. No matter what. _Do not leave._ ”

Sans secretly worried that Papyrus would go out looking for him when he didn’t return soon after the noises ceased. He knew he would be gone much longer than last time.

“I won’t,” Papyrus answered. “Be right here, waiting for Sas.”

Sans wrapped his arms around his brother, the seriousness of what he was about to do weighing heavily on his soul.

“Papyrus,” he whispered into his brother’s ear. “I love you so much. If anything happens to me, and tomorrow comes and I haven’t come back, please, _please_ go to the cavern. They will take care of you. But don’t go until tomorrow. Wait for me until then.”

Every bad outcome entered his mind, forcing him to shut his eyes. He hugged his brother tighter as he momentarily reconsidered.

But he had to do this. For Papyrus’ sake, he had to carry out his plan.

Papyrus held on to his brother, trembling, scared about why his brother was saying these things. It was just like when he lay dying....

“Sas gonna be okay...?” he whispered timidly, tears forming.

Sans hugged even tighter. “Yeah, I’m just saying, just in case. That’s all. You know, always hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Right?”

Papyrus whimpered sadly at their parents’ adage. “Right....”

Sans gave one last squeeze.

“I love you, Papyrus. So, so much.”

“I love you, too, Sas. So, so much....”

Sans stood up and went to the opening, turning back to look at his brother for what might be the last time he’d ever see him. He grinned widely to relax his brother and to hide the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes, then crawled outside.

Sans watched the workers cut down the last of the trees from behind the snow mound he had formed again in front of him. He was lying on his stomach so that his legs were rested enough to run. As he waited, he ran through his plan repeatedly. He’d been going over it in his mind for weeks, but now that the moment was at hand, he didn’t want to forget any crucial steps or make any mistakes.

If this went wrong....

The last tree was felled, and the monsters with agricultural magic exited the cavern to make the new batch of trees for the following month’s harvest. This was Sans’ cue to get ready.

He got to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest so loudly, he was afraid the monsters in the distance would hear it.

The tree saplings grew, rising up quickly, and when they were at half-height, their growth stopped. The monsters, having completed their re-planting task, returned to the cavern. The woodcutters finished getting their tools together, wrapped up in the tarps and tied tightly with ropes. The tools were loaded on the back of the cart and strapped down. Then the monsters headed towards the cavern, four of them taking hold of the cart beam to pull.

Once the cart started rolling, Sans took note of a tree right next to a torch behind the cart. He had been on that part of the trail before, so there was no doubt in his mind that his magic would work.

He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and in a moment, he was gone.

Sans appeared on the path right next to the tree and torch he had pictured. His heart raced as he ran for the cart, adrenaline coursing through him. When he got closer, he slowed his pace to match that of the cart’s, readied himself, then took a running leap towards it. He grasped frantically at the tarped bundle, scrambling to pull himself up onto the back of the cart.

He slid between the tools and the freshly cut logs and laid flat against the cart-bed, pushing up the bundle to hide himself. He gasped for breath as the cart moved noisily ahead, his head pounding with tension and fear. He was shaking terribly, matching the rattling of the cart on packed snow.

Sans ducked as close to the floor as he could, holding his breath as the cart thudded with a bump, the sound of the wheels crunching on snow changing to the scraping on stone. He heard a great, groaning, grinding sound followed by an enormous, resonating thud.

The large purple stone doors had just shut behind the cart.

Sans was now inside the cavern.


	23. Chapter 23

The cart traversed slowly through a long hallway of purple and violet bricks, the droning rumble of the wheels on brick resonating off the walls. Sans sat up, peering cautiously over the sides of the cart as he remained hidden behind the tarped bundle of tools.

He could see guards, now far behind them, in small wooden outposts on either side of the doorway, having barred the doors by lowering a long horizontal stone slab into a row of multiple iron bar holders on the doors and the wall. They were now relaxing in their chairs, fulfilling their mundane duty of watching the doors—that were never attacked—for humans—that never came. One started reading, the other put his feet up on the outpost and leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. The guards didn’t even notice the small stowaway in the back of the final cart, staring at them fearfully.

The hallway was quite wide, and rather empty aside from the occasional sconce on the walls, burning with magical flames that filled the area with a warm glow.

With the only two monsters behind the cart not paying attention, Sans crept to the left side, carefully looking forward while trying to stay unseen behind the logs. He noticed a small structure approaching that they would soon be passing. It looked like a tiny room with a doorless doorway facing the purple cavern doors. It was made of the same purple bricks, protruded from the wall, and, as they neared it, Sans could see that the ceiling, roof, and floor sloped gradually downward, creating a ramp-like path leading underground.

He shuddered, worried that, at any moment, someone might come running up from below and spot him. Maybe a whole army of guards was underneath them, about to come through the doorway and surround the cart to search for humans—and stowaway children. He kept his head down.

Eventually, the cart entered the main cavern, the echoes of the wheels disappearing into the air and the cart-bed becoming engulfed in brighter light. Sans flattened himself on the wooden floor and pulled the edge of the tarped bundle up over him as much as the slack would allow.

This was the part he was most worried about—how to get off the cart without being seen. It was the portion of his plan that he could not account for, and was his largest risk of getting caught. As he racked his brain, the cart slowed to a mild crawl. Sweat poured down Sans’ skull as he held his breath, expecting the workers to find him at any second.

“Right, now, boys, this way... _this way_.”

The cart gave a lurch, as did Sans’ stomach, then he felt the cart turning left.

“Ok, now forward... _forward.”_

The cart was pulled accordingly.

“Right, now, hang on.”

The voice came close. _Too close._ The cart came to a stop.

Sans nearly jumped out of his jacket when he saw the monster who owned the voice—a large, burly bull—walk past the right side of the cart, where Sans was facing. Sans shut his eyes and covered his head, waiting for the bull to climb into the back of the cart and grab him, when he heard his voice calling a short distance from the back of the cart.

“Right, now, back... _back_.”

Sans hit into the logs, bumping his skull slightly, as the cart jerked backwards and started rolling in reverse.

“Keep ‘er coming... _keep ‘er coming_. Nice’n’straight. Good... _good_. Little bit more... _a little bit more...._ That’s it, stop!”

The cart halted suddenly, rolling Sans into the tools. There was a metallic jostling sound as he hit them, and Sans was terrified he had given himself away with the noise.

“Perfect! Great job, boys!”

Sans could tell from the loudness of his voice that the bull was right behind the cart. Only the tarped bundle separated the bull from Sans. Fear gripped him as he waited for the inevitable. What on earth made him think he could just sneak into the cavern like this without getting caught?!

“Right, now, let’s take lunch, then we’ll unload these here logs. I hear they’ve served us up some mighty fine stew’n’sandwiches over in the break area.”

The bull’s voice trailed from behind the cart, past Sans as he went around the side, towards the front, slowly fading off as he walked away.

Sans remained still, waiting, straining his ears, then, when he realized everyone had left, he breathed for the first time in what seemed like hours. His chest was pounding, his body trembling fiercely, and sweat poured off him.

After a few moments of trying to regain his composure, he sat up to see where he was.

The cart had been parked alongside all the others, side by side, in a work area. The backs of the carts were facing an open space, presumably an unloading area, and Sans could see work tables, saws, chisels, and various other woodworking tools on the opposite side of the open area.

Further down was another work area used for masonry, with the wheelbarrows, bricks, mortar, and other tools he recognized from when he spied them through the tunnel “windows” long ago. The masonry area was backed by a brick wall Sans judged to be the wall that covered the cavern tunnel entrance. He looked up the sheer purple brick wall—there was no indication that there had ever been a tunnel entrance up in the area where it lie hidden.

Along the wall on his right was a narrow pathway that led towards the corner where it met the wall that covered the tunnel entrance. Taking his chance, he carefully and silently stood up, crawled over the tarped-up tool bundle, and slid off the cart. When he hit the floor, he froze, listening to see if anyone heard him land on the sawdusty floor. Then he crept towards the edge of the cart to look down the path to see if anyone was coming up from the hallway he had just rode through.

The coast was clear, so he stepped onto the path and walked down it quickly in a crouch. When he reached the corner, he turned and saw that the path continued down along the wall, and could see no end to the pathway. He crept down the path, passed the masonry area, and continued until he reached the start of a continuous row of brick buildings.

He peered behind the first one and saw numerous monsters walking by—some carrying baskets, others strolling casually, and he even saw a few children wandering around playfully. The more he watched, the more comfortable he felt that he would go unnoticed. And seeing some of the older children walking around alone without an adult helped ease his fears that he’d be caught on sight.

Still fearing being seen, he pulled up his hood over his skull. He then leaned against the building, took a deep breath, and crept down the small path between the two buildings. As he reached the edge, he hesitated fearfully, then put his head down and walked out into the small flow of monsters, melding into them.

He kept his head down, afraid to look up, and felt like every eye was on him. He waited for the feeling of being grabbed and pulled away, but it never came. Eventually, he relaxed enough to look up, and his breath caught in his throat when he did.

The monsters had been busy.

The enormous cavern had been transformed into a large city. Huge buildings rose towards the ceiling, the only portion of the cavern left in its natural state—though every stalactite had been removed. The buildings were made of the same violet and purple bricks, set in with multiple small lancelet windows, and the roofs of the majority of buildings were crenellated. Some structures had rows of columns, others were shorter and wider, and there was even a large domed building off in the distance.

It was massive, well built up, and bustling with happy, busy monsters—you’d never know that they had fled to this place as war refugees.

Sans didn’t know where to start, but he knew where he needed to go. And he needed to get there fast—he’d already been away from Papyrus far longer than he would have liked. He swallowed down his fear and approached a mother cat with her three kittens.

“E-excuse me, miss...,” Sans stammered timidly.

The cat’s whiskers split into a warm grin, her eyes creasing kindly.

“Yes, my dear?” she purred soothingly.

“I-I’m a bit...lost,” he mumbled shyly. “I’m looking for where to get food....”

“Oh, don’t be shy, little one,” she said gently. “It’s easy to get lost here in Home. I’m still getting used to it myself. And just when I think I know where things are, they build up more to confuse me!”

Sans grinned as his body shook with nerves.

“You’ll find food sellers in the market,” she smiled as she blinked slowly.

The kind cat gave Sans directions, and he thanked her gratefully. He rushed off, following the route, and after a few turns, he came across a row of wooden stands, booths, tents, and open-faced brick buildings.

This is what Sans had planned to find since watching the woodcutters, what he had risked everything to reach, and he was finally here—a place to get food. And, if he was lucky, he might also be able to get some supplies, as well. He smiled with a hint of sadness as he started strolling down the path that reminded him of the market his parents used to take him and his brother to.

Shops and sellers were on both sides of the road. There were barrels and baskets teeming with products, tables and shelves displaying items, and the luscious smells wafting towards him told Sans that there would be no shortage of fresh food for him to find.

He didn’t have much time, so he wanted to see what kind of shops were available before he decided on which items to choose, and he still wasn’t sure if he would be able to purchase anything. He didn’t have a speck of gold to his name, but Sans hoped, if his plan went accordingly, he’d still be able to leave with goods to bring to Papyrus.

There was a smithy, run by a large Aaron. He was by an anvil, hammering away fiercely at a red-hot strip of iron. His metalwork was strung on ropes draped over the awning of his open-face workshop, jars of nails and arrowheads sat on the counter on the side, and tools, weapons, cookware, and metal farming equipment were displayed in tall baskets and crates in front of the counter. The heat of his furnace reached Sans as he passed.

Across the road was a woodshop stand, run by a downy woodpecker. Wooden cutlery was displayed in small baskets, plates, bowls, and cups were piled up on shelves, crates for sale stood stacked along the side, and various other wooden creations were displayed neatly in baskets, crates, and on shelves.

Next to the smithy was a jeweler, run by a thin, sapphire blue monster with large eyes and even larger eyelashes. Rings, necklaces, and bracelets glittered in the light, fibulae for capes and cloaks were displayed on strips of velvety fabric, and pocket watches draped over the side of the counter. Jewel encrusted boxes were displayed at tilted angles in shelves along the wall. These were on the right side of the stand, while on the left were items for more practical uses—thick iron chains, chainmail vests, and weapon sheathes and hilts.

On the other side was a tailor stand, run by a sable ferret. Baskets teeming with spools and skeins of thread, twine, yarn, ribbons, and rope sat on the left side, while the right was covered with shelves full of large, rectangular spools of fabric in various colors, styles, and textures. Bundles of fabric scraps tied in colorful ribbons filled baskets in the entryway. A sign advertising fabric and shoe repair stood on a tiny easel on the counter. Needles, tapestry tools, circular looms, and other similar tools were scattered around the stand in small baskets.

Next was a bakery, run by a flour-covered bear. Loaves of bread and rolls filled baskets along the entryway, jars of confections, pastries, and cookies covered both sides, and the counter had a glass display case, behind which were beautifully decorated cakes, large pies, and delicate specialty pastries. Four sets of ovens, a countertop range, and a flour- and dough-encrusted counter with numerous baking utensils lined the back. Sans’ mouth watered and his stomach growled, but he continued on.

There was a produce shop, run by a lanky hare. Fruits, vegetables, mushrooms, herbs, and flowers of all sorts filled baskets. Jars of dried fruit, dried herbs, nuts, seeds, and pickled goods lined the counter. Sans really wished he had waited to finish breakfast that morning as he rubbed his rumbling stomach and moved on.

There was a general foodstuffs store, run by a spectacled mouse. Shelves were stocked with small packages of grains, oats, granola, flours, sugar, spices, and more. Jars of nut butters, jams, preserves, oils, and other foods filled baskets throughout the storefront. Wheels of cheese were piled up on the floor and in baskets, some that could fit in Sans’ palm, others bigger than he was.

The last store had a mix of different items, and was run by a thin hen. Shelves, baskets, and crates were filled with all kinds of items—food, tools, pottery, clothing, supplies, toys, just to name a few. It was a very curious shop, and greatly intrigued Sans with its variety of items.

Having reached the end of the main shops—there were small sellers with tents and tables further down the path, but Sans didn’t have the time to look through their wares right now—he decided to return to the jeweler.

As Sans approached, the sapphire monster was twisting thick wire around a metal bar with a pair of pliers, coiling it as she pulled it taut with each turn. He waited patiently, not wanting to disturb her from her work, wringing his hands as he rehearsed what he wanted to ask over and over in his mind. The monster caught sight of him in the corner of her enormous eye and spoke to him in a velvety voice.

“Be right with you, darling.”

“S’ok, I don’t mind waiting,” Sans said, his voice small. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

The monster smiled, flashing a giant row of snow-white teeth. “You are so kind. Just give me a moment.”

She coiled a few more times, then pulled the wire free, snipping off the end with a strong set of wire cutters. To Sans, the piece looked like a tightened-up spring.

“Miss, what’s that?” he asked, his curiosity piqued in spite of his nerves.

“This,” she said, holding up the coiled wire, “is how I make chainmail. I will be cutting down the middle here, and that will turn this piece into many rings. I attach the rings to other rings, and that’s how I make things like that.”

She pointed to the chainmail vests hanging up. Sans went over and lifted a corner of one of them up, seeing how the material was made with small circular rings connected in a particular pattern. It fascinated him as he peered closer and turned the chainmail this way and that.

“So, my little one,” she asked smoothly. “What may I do for you this lustrous day?”

“I-I was, um,” he stammered, lowering the corner of chainmail in his hand quickly, his nerves getting the better of him. “I-I wondered if, um, well, you know, you, um...purchased items for gold?”

The monster’s huge eyelashes ruffled as she blinked in surprise. Then she smiled warmly as her eyebrows raised sadly, her enormous mouth revealing huge, perfect teeth.

“I am so sorry, darling,” her velvety tone made the apology sound so soothing. “I don’t normally purchase items from customers like the other shopkeepers do. My wares are of a specific caliber—I owe my beautiful customers quality products.”

Her heart broke as Sans’ face fell, downcast.

“Oh, now, my little one, it’s not personal. No, not at all. I’ve had _many_ customers wish to sell me their old jewelry and findings. I really am sorry, I wish I could help you....”

Sans struggled to stuff down his utter disappointment. “I-it’s ok, I understand, miss....”

He unshouldered the haversack and reached into the main pocket as he continued. “You said that other shopkeepers purchased items from customers. Do you know who might be interested in these?”

He held out a couple lucent gems in his hand. The monster’s eyes widened as she breathed in a soft gasp through her large mouth. She rounded the counter to come closer to Sans, her eyes never leaving the gems. She knelt down in front of him, her hands cupping the air around his hand in marvel. He could see their light shining in her eyes.

“Th-these,” she whispered, her voice like silk. “I’ve seen these before.... Studded in the walls where the water flowed.... I saw them as we fled, but couldn’t stop to reach them.... How did you ever get them?”

Sans chose his words carefully. “My brother and I, we found a lot of them laying loose on the ground, so we grabbed them up.”

Her eyes finally left the glowing gems and met Sans’. Her eyelashes rustled like fall leaves as she blinked.

“Darling, do you mean to say that you have more of these?”

“Yes, miss,” he answered, nudging the haversack on the floor with his foot. The sound of gems jostling in the pieces of fabric made the sapphire monster squeak silkily with joy.

“Little one, I take back what I said,” she said, putting her hands on Sans’ shoulders. “I should have seen what you had before I turned you away. Please forgive me, I was wrong. _This_ is exactly the kind of quality item my customers deserve! Oh, the magnificent pieces I could make, the usefulness of illumination and the glamor of radiance!”

Sans raised his eyebrows and frowned apologetically. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to go out of your way, I know you said you don’t normally buy like others do—”

She gasped, snapping out of her dreamy visions of what she could fashion with the gems.

“No! Darling!” She clutched her soul as she gasped fearfully. “Please! The other shopkeepers would be fighting tooth and claw to get these amazing beauties! I can give you more gold for them than they could ever give you combined. Please, I will take all of them!”

Sans’ eyes lit up. Now it was his turn to gasp. “R-really? A-all of them?”

“Yes, my little one,” she smiled her enormous grin. Then her voice faltered sadly as she looked down at his haversack. “Oh, how I wish that bag was just a mite bit larger. I’m sure there’s not that many in there....”

Sans looked at the bag with her. “Oh, well, I can always bring you more—”

He gave a small startled noise as she grabbed him by the upper arms.

“You can get me _more?!_ ” Her silky voice made the urgency relaxing.

“Y-yes, miss,” he stammered timidly. He couldn’t tell her how, but she didn’t need to know that he had access to the darkened area. “W-we have a lot more...b-back home. This is just all I could bring for now.”

A squeal of glee emanated from deep within her chest as she let go of Sans to shake her fists in the air excitedly.

“Darling, please, don’t let another shopkeeper have these precious stones. I will buy any and all that you have, any time!”

Sans smiled, relieved that his plan to sell the gems for gold actually panned out. “Thank you, miss, I really, really appreciate that.”

“Not at all, my little one,” she breathed in her velvety tone. “ _I_ should be the one thanking _you._ ”

He started pulling them out of the haversack, the monster’s eyes growing wider and wider as the pile grew.

She rushed around to the back of the counter where her gold was kept. “Now, my little one, how many blue and how many pink?”

Sans counted them out. “There’s 47 blue ones and 22 pink ones.”

The monster made a joyful sound, then cleared her throat, regaining her composure. “All right, I’ll give you 100 gold for the blue ones and 200 for the pink.”

_300 gold!_ Sans thought. _That will buy plenty of food for Papyrus!_

Sans tried to keep his expression calm, since she was offering a lot of gold for the gems. If he appeared too eager, she might reconsider. He lowered his tone so she didn’t lower the price. “300 gold for the lot?”

“Oh, _no_ , darling,” she said in her velvety voice. “100 for the blue and 200 for the pink— _each._ ”

Sans stood there a moment in utter shock, his eyes wide and unseeing as he fell back on the ground onto his rear. He was, quite literally, _floored_.

“Oh no,” the monster gasped, concern filling her tone as she raised a hand to her enormous mouth. “Is that price too low?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note about that "doorless doorway" the cart passes in the hallway just after entering the cavern doors, since this is probably the only time we see it. 
> 
> Sometime in the future, Frisk will be emerging from it. 
> 
> This handy little illustration I made should explain it a bit. :)


	24. Chapter 24

Sans walked down the market road, his legs still shaking and his mind swirling. The haversack on his back was much lighter, and the jangle of gold coins in the bottom of the bag still made his head spin.

9100 G. Sans now had 9,100 gold in his possession—large 100 G coins, medium sized 10 G coins, and small 1 G coins—most of which was tied up in the cloth scraps that had held the gems. He had stuffed a handful of coins into his pocket for shopping, and hadn’t removed his hand from his pocket since.

He couldn’t believe it—he went from foraging to stave off starvation to sitting on a small fortune in minutes. The exhilaration made him lightheaded, and he kept waiting to wake up from this dream and find himself in his bed with Papyrus to start another day of trying to survive.

He squeezed the coins again in his pocket. They sure _felt_ real. He grinned widely and headed over to the bakery.

The smells of freshly baked breads and sugary confections made his mouth water, his stomach aching for a taste of everything. Sans swallowed back his hunger and searched through the various choices.

In the back behind the counter, the bear stood, a massive metal bowl cradled in one arm against her flour-speckled white apron as she mixed the contents with a large wooden spoon.

“Why, hello, sweetness!” she smiled. Her voice seemed much too small for her enormous body. “Welcome to my _bear_ -kery!”

She giggled sweetly at her own joke, and Sans couldn’t help but join her.

“That was a good one,” he admitted, grinning at the baker.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “What can I help you with today, sugar?”

“Just need to pick up a few things, miss,” he said, his eyes wandering over the baskets filled with various breads.

“Well, sweetie,” she smiled warmly. “You just let me know if you’ve got any questions, all right?”

“Yes, miss,” he returned the smile. “I will.”

He considered getting a baguette that was taller than he was, but he knew it would go stale before he and Papyrus got halfway through it. Instead, he chose three medium, crusty wheat loaves—the size of his forearm—and a single loaf of soft multigrain bread.

He placed them up on the counter and stared at the luscious cakes, pies, and pastries behind the glass. He had enough gold to purchase them all...but he knew it wouldn’t be practical. Even though the jeweler had promised to purchase more of his gems, and even though he was currently carrying more gold than he had ever seen in his life, his parents had always taught him the importance of practical shopping.

His mind drifted to a marketplace trip with his parents when he was younger. He had asked them why they didn’t buy the bigger and better items—having no understanding of gold himself at his age—and they explained that gold was great and important, but needed to be treated with great importance. Even though they had enough to purchase a large item, they bought the smaller item and saved gold in the process.

“Sans,” his father had said gently. “Gold runs out, but hunger is every day.”

Having struggled to feed his brother since fleeing to the mountain, Sans now understood his father’s words, and why his parents taught him patience with gold spending. Anything could happen, and the gold in his bag might be the only gold he had for the rest of his life, so splurging on expensive items that he didn’t need was irresponsible—especially with Papyrus to care for.

Sans blinked back to the current, the baker standing at the counter, staring at him. He just realized that she had been speaking to him.

“Oh!” he said, startled and embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I-I just.... My mind wandered, I’m sorry.”

The bear smiled sweetly at him. “It’s all right, sugar. You’re not the first little dumpling to stare at my baked goods and drift off to dreamland!”

Sans grinned sheepishly, his embarrassment waning slightly.

“I’d asked if you were all set, sweetie,” she said gently.

“Oh, no, I just,” he stammered, his eyes travelling over to the jars on the wall. “Miss, may I have one of the chocolate chip cookies?”

“Of course, sweetness,” she said softly.

She went over to the wall, pulled down the large jar of cookies, and brought it to the counter. With a tug, she popped off the glass lid and used a piece of parchment paper to grab one of the large chocolate chip cookies. She then held it out to Sans.

“Here you are, sugar,” she grinned. “Enjoy!”

“Oh,” he said, taken aback. “No, miss. It’s not for me.”

“It’s not?” she said, her grin faltering in confusion as she tilted her head slightly.

“No miss,” Sans shook his head. “It’s for my little brother. It’s been so long since he’s had a cookie....”

His voice trailed off sadly. There was so much that his brother had lost out on and suffered since leaving their house. He was just little, it wasn’t fair.... He blinked again and cleared his throat of the lump that was forming.

“I just want to surprise him,” he said in a shaky tone, grinning as he ignored the tears that started to well up in his eyes.

The bear stood there, still holding the cookie, lost for words.

“That...is...,” she whispered, finding her voice. “...the _sweetest_ thing I’ve ever heard.”

Sans averted his eyes, embarrassment burning at his cheekbones again.

“Sugar, you are the best big brother your little brother could ever hope to have.”

Sans shut his eyes momentarily. Her words both stung his guilt and felt like salve on an open wound.

“Th-thank you, miss,” he replied softly, staring at the floor.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.

Sans composed himself. “N-no miss, just the bread and cookie, please.”

The bear totaled up the baked goods, and as Sans counted out the gold in his hand, she wrapped the loaves in thick, brown parchment paper and tied it up with baker’s twine. He handed her the gold, unshouldered his haversack, and put the loaves inside.

“Here’s your brother’s cookie,” she said, handing him a small, folded pastry bag. “And here’s a cookie for you.”

Sans gasped, sticking his hand into his pocket. “Oh! Sorry, I only paid for one, hang on....”

The bear shook her head and smiled warmly. “No, sugar, this one is my treat. For being such a great older brother.”

“Th-thank you, miss,” he breathed incredulously. “I-I don’t know what to say, except, _thank you._ ”

“Sweetie, I just wish there were more unselfish monsters like you in this world.”

He smiled sheepishly again, and took the two little pastry bags, putting them in the front pocket of the haversack.

“You have a wonderful day, sugar,” she waved as he headed out. “Hope to see you again!”

“You too,” he said, returning the wave. “And you will. Thank you again!”

Now that Sans had bread, he wondered if he should get a proper knife to cut it, instead of tearing at it like he’d done in the past. So he wandered over to the smithy.

The Aaron blacksmith was pumping the billows of his forge, his thick muscles rippling with each push. He pulled the loosened bow of his dark green apron tighter on his back as he turned around. He noticed Sans looking through his baskets of cutlery and brayed.

“Now, now, son!” he said, his voice loud and haughty. “You shouldn’t be playing with those. You’ll cut yourself.”

Sans stood back timidly, feeling like he’d just been scolded. “S-sorry, sir. I’m just looking for a kn-knife to cut f-food.”

“Ah!” the Aaron exclaimed, his voice booming. “So you want a knife, eh?”

“Yes, sir,” Sans murmured. “One for cutting things like bread, vegetables, ch—”

“Well!” the aproned merhorse interrupted, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re looking for a _serrated_ knife!”

“Y-yes, sir,” Sans replied, not really sure what “serrated” meant.

The Aaron floated over to the basket of sharp cutlery and pulled out a serrated kitchen knife, flipping it into the air with one hand and catching it deftly with the other. Sans noticed he was flexing as he did so.

“Is _this_ what you’re looking for?” he said theatrically, holding up the knife in his fingertips.

Sans looked up at it. It was toothed like a saw, just like the one his mother had back home. She used it for most foods that needed chopping, slicing, and cutting.

“Yes, sir, thank you!” Sans nodded.

“Anything else, son?” the Aaron asked as he flipped the knife back up in the air and caught it expertly before putting it on the counter.

“I’m still looking,” Sans said, checking out the rest of the cookery items.

His eyes widened when he saw that there was a small cooking pot. He grabbed it and placed it on the counter with the knife.

“Just these, please,” Sans said, and handed the Aaron gold.

He put the pot in the haversack, shifting it under the loaves of bread, as the merhorse wrapped the knife in a thick piece of burlap and tied it up in twine.

“There you are, son,” he said, presenting the well-wrapped knife. “That will ensure you don’t cut yourself! Thanks for stopping by!”

Sans thanked him and continued on his way.

“Why, hello there,” the downy woodpecker who owned the woodshop said, his head tilting from side to side rapidly as he smiled.

“Hello, sir,” Sans said in greeting, smiling at the bird.

“Is there anything I can help you find?” the woodpecker twittered.

“Not yet,” Sans said, his eyes panning through the wooden items. “I’m just looking for a moment first.”

“Kay, kay,” he said, nodding quickly with each syllable. “I’ll be right here carving, let me know if you need help.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sans answered, looking at the shelves.

His eyes fell upon the piles of wooden cups, plates, and bowls. How nice it would be not to have to eat off pieces of burlap anymore! He took a pair each of the cups, small plates, and bowls and placed them upon the counter. Then he sought out the wooden cutlery, taking two each of the forks, knives, and spoons, and added them to the pile.

He looked at the crates, and as much as he would love to get them to store items, he decided against it. They cost a lot of gold, and if he and his brother needed to evacuate the shelter, they were just too large to take with them. Besides, he had plans to make baskets with the reeds they had been collecting, which would cost him nothing to make.

However, he saw a pile of wooden buckets and raised his eyebrows. These were definitely something he needed. He took three—one for storing melted water, another for washing clothes and their new dishes, and the third for soaking things like the pine cones and the reeds. They were much cheaper than the crates, and were far more useful.

Sans purchased the items, stuffing them carefully in his bag—placing the bread on top—and thanked the woodworker. The woodpecker nodded swiftly in appreciation.

Sans looked through the baskets teemed with skeins and spools as the sable ferret looked up and greeted him.

“Well, hey there,” he said, smiling kindly.

“Hello, sir,” Sans returned the salutations with a grin.

“Anything I can help you find?” the ferret asked, tilting his triangular head.

“Actually,” Sans said, thoughtfully. “Yes. Do you have a sewing kit?”

The ferret wound his way around the counter, pointing out various spots.

“I’ve got beginner sets, master sets, large sets, tiny sets.... What’s your fancy?”

Sans thought for a moment. “I’m looking for one of those small kits. You know, the ones with a few needles, a few small spools of thread, measuring tape, little scissors...you know, the little sets?”

The ferret nodded knowingly, smiling. “Yes, I know _just_ what you mean.”

He twisted his way around the baskets, seeking the item, and reached over, grabbing it. He opened it up and held it out to Sans.

“This one, am I right?”

“Yes, sir, that’s the one,” Sans nodded sadly. It looked just like the one his mother gave him when teaching him to sew crafted items. It was a small case made from thick folded fabric with a snap button clasp. It had two rows of elastic straps sown into it and was partitioned so that each spool, tool, and small wooden box of needles had its own place, held firmly by the elastic so the items didn’t come dislodged when carried around. The only difference was that this case was yellow.

The ferret smiled, happy he had what Sans was looking for. He mistook the sadness in his eyes for a distaste in the color.

“There are other colors if yellow’s not your thing,” he offered. “What color would you like?”

“Blue!” Sans didn’t even hesitate. He blinked, embarrassed at blurting out. He regained his manners. “Sorry...blue, sir. If you’ve got it.”

The ferret smiled warmly, not at all offended by his eager answer. “No need to apologize! We’ve all got our favorite colors! I myself don’t like when I’ve got something I work with that is in a color other than my favorite.”

He continued as he rummaged through the stock of sewing kits. “I had these green shears for ages, absolutely loved them. Green’s my favorite color, and that’s why I got them. Well, then we had to evacuate, I wasn’t at my shop when the order came out—I was at home. So my green shears are back at my old tailor shop out there. I needed a new pair, but all I could purchase down here was a maroon pair. They work just fine, but...guh, _maroon_. Ah! Here we go!”

He pulled out a cobalt blue sewing kit of the same style as the yellow and showed it to Sans. His smile grew sadder with painful nostalgia.

“And I’m guessing,” the ferret said softly, straightening himself up from his twisted-up position, “that you had a kit just like this, just this color, that’s sitting back in your home, too....”

Sans nodded, unable to speak, tears brimming his eyes. It was _exactly_ like the one his mother had given him.

The ferret smiled gently, understanding how the little skeleton felt. He placed it upon the counter and sighed, then smiled to brighten up the mood once again.

“Well, now, anything else I can dig out for you?” he smiled.

Sans wiped his eyes on his sleeves. “Heh, you mean, anything else you can _ferret_ out for me?”

The two laughed softly, the sadness diminishing slightly.

“I do need a couple more things, if that’s all right, sir?” Sans asked, still grinning. “I need a tapestry needle, and a spool of thread which I can get right over here.”

The sable ferret nodded, seeking out some tapestry needles as Sans sifted through the baskets until he found a large spool of thick, white thread. The ferret showed him the different sizes and gauges, and Sans chose one.

He made his purchase, handing over the gold, and the ferret tucked the tapestry needle in the sewing kit so it wouldn’t get lost. Sans placed the items in the side pocket of his haversack, thanked the kind ferret, and left the stand as the ferret waved him goodbye.

Sans looked down the market path and sighed deeply. He still had three more shops to visit, and he had already been gone so long. How many hours had it been since he left? A shudder went down his spine as he thought of Papyrus leaving the shelter to go looking for him.

He sighed and looked up. Just three more shops. He _needed_ to stay just a little longer, to shop for food. That was the whole reason he risked everything to get here. He pulled his hood and headed for the produce shop, determined to finish his trip quickly and return to his brother as soon as possible.

The lanky hare shopkeeper was rotating peppers as Sans approached. He had emptied the contents of the basket into a small wooden crate, filled the basket with new, fresher peppers from a larger crate, then started sorting the older peppers. He put aside any that seemed damaged or close to going bad, and placed the good peppers on top of the newer ones in the basket. Once the peppers had been sorted through, he piled the unsellable ones into the smaller crate.

“Hello, sir,” Sans said quietly, so as not to startle the hare. “Are those bad?”

“‘Fraid so, kid,” the hare answered, sighing. “S’ok, though, only just a few of ‘em.”

“I’m sorry,” Sans said, feeling bad for him.

“Nah, don’t be,” the hare said, turning to grin, his large front teeth glistening in the light. “Means more for the poor.”

Sans blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Wot, you don’t know?” the hare said, surprised. “All us here shopkeepers give all the food that’s damaged, soon to go bad, or otherwise unsellable to the public to the lesser fortunate. There’s so many monsters who ain’t got no gold, no family, no way to support ‘emselves that would otherwise starve if they didn’t have them charity workers helping ‘em out.”

“Oh,” Sans said, sadly.

He knew how hard it was to survive without proper means of getting food for him and his brother. Imagining other monsters going through the same hunger and worry about where the next meal was coming from made his heart break. He was glad, however, that other monsters were helping them get food.

“Anyways, what can I do ya for?” the hare asked, having put the crate of peppers for the poor behind the counter.

“Oh, I, uh,” Sans stammered, breaking out of his train of thought. “I’m just here, buying food, so, I just need a moment to look around.”

“Sure thing, kid,” he grinned. “You just holler iffen ya need me. I’m just gonna stock some more of this here produce.”

Sans nodded, then went around the stand, choosing items.

He saw a large basket teeming with potatoes, and almost grabbed some, but then he realized that he didn’t have a proper stove or oven to cook them with. He remembered asking his parents to bring potatoes to roast on the campfires when they’d go on night outings, and they always said that potatoes didn’t cook well on campfires. Since their little magical flame was much smaller than the campfires his parents had built, he knew he wouldn’t be able to cook them properly. As much as he loved potatoes, he had to pass them up.

Sans limited his search for vegetables that could either be eaten raw or roasted over a small fire. He didn’t get any mushrooms, as they could get plenty from the darkened area. But he chose two large stalks of celery, a dozen huge carrots, and three big tomatoes and put them on the counter.

“Sir?” he called over to the hare, who was working on rotating turnips.

“Yeah, kid?” he craned his neck over, smiling.

“I’d like to get some of the baby spinach here,” Sans said, pointing at a small basket filled to the brim with loose leaves. “Do I just grab a handful, or...?”

“Oh, I’ll get you a bag,” the hare said, jumping to his feet and heading over behind the counter. He returned, handing a medium sized parchment bag to Sans. “It’s sold by weight, so just fill’er up as much as ya want, and I’ll weigh the bag out for you.” He gave a large wink. “And don’t worry, the bag doesn’t count towards the weight.”

“Ok, thank you,” Sans nodded, then opened the bag up and started grabbing handfuls of the leafy greens.

When he had about a week’s worth in the bag, he folded it up and put it on the counter. The hare weighed the bag and wrote the cost of the baby spinach on the bag with a bit of charcoal as Sans continued shopping. He noticed that, near the baby spinach, as well as the lettuces and other greens, there were smaller baskets with glass bottles of salad dressing, so he chose a flavor he and Papyrus both liked and added it to the pile.

He then looked through the fruit and chose half a dozen each of apples, pears, and bananas. He smiled sadly as he looked at the bananas, thinking of how they had saved his brother when he needed something soft and easy to chew after waking up from when he had nearly died.

“May I also get some things from the jars, sir?” Sans asked as he placed the fruit on the counter.

“Sure thing, kid,” he grinned. “Same as the baby spinach—pay per pound, minus the bag. What can I getcha?”

Sans requested some dried fruit and some nuts, having the hare fill the small parchment bags as much as he could, only leaving room to fold the paper over to seal the bags. The hare then weighed the bags and wrote their prices on each of them.

“That will do, sir, thank you,” Sans said, and the hare added up the amounts out loud to him.

Sans handed over the total in gold, and unshouldered his haversack to start loading the items in. He put the glass bottle of salad dressing and the bags of nuts and dried fruit into the side pockets, then filled the main pocket with the rest of the produce, shifting things around carefully so they fit. He was quickly running out of space, but there were only two shops left.

He thanked the lanky hare, who gave an energetic farewell wave and a smile.

The little mouse adjusted his spectacles every so often as he continued stocking shelves with jars of preserves while Sans looked through the bags of foodstuffs. He chose a couple bags of granola cereal and a bag of rolled oats. As he held the bag of oats in his hand, Sans mentally ran through the recipe for oatmeal that his mother taught him.

“Sir?” he called over to the mouse shopkeeper. “Do you have salt?”

“Hm, hmm,” the mouse wiggled his whiskers as he adjusted his spectacles. “Salt...salt.... Ah yes, yes I have salt. Do you want a big bag or a small jar?”

“A small jar would be fine, sir,” he answered.

“Ah, yes, yes,” the shopkeeper said, walking over to one of the shelves and peering at its contents.

He picked up a tiny jar, held it in front of his face at arm’s length as he shifted his glasses down his nose and squinted. Then he placed the jar back on the shelf and chose another.

“Ah, yes, yes,” the mouse said, turning to hand Sans the salt. “Here you are, m’boy.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sans nodded. “This is the perfect size.”

He continued shopping as the little mouse returned to his stocking task. Sans picked up a jar each of peanut butter, grape jelly, mixed fruit jelly, and strawberry jam, and placed these and the other items in his arms on the counter.

He noticed that there were three big trays on the counter covered in large, glass lids. On the trays were some rectangular creations of what looked like oatmeal or cereal. Were they cookies?

“Sorry, sir,” Sans called shyly. “But, what are these?”

The mouse went around the counter to take a closer look, sliding his spectacles up and down his nose.

“Hm, hmm,” he said, inspecting the contents. “Ah, yes, these are different kinds of bars.” He pointed at each one as he named them. “This is a granola bar, made with granola, almonds, honey, and raisins. This one is a cereal bar, made with puffed cereal, honey, and brown sugar. And this one is a peanut butter oat bar, made with peanut butter, oats, chocolate chips, and honey.”

Sans’ eyes grew wide. They all sounded good, but the last one sounded delicious.

“May I have two of the granola and four of the peanut butter ones, please?”

“Ah, yes, yes,” the mouse smiled, his whiskers twitching. “Of course you may, m’boy.”

He lifted the lids and took a pair of tongs to grab and place each bar on a small square of parchment paper, wrapping them up before putting them in two parchment bags—one for each flavor.

“Last thing I need, sir, is some cheese,” Sans said, staring at the piles of cheese wheels around him.

“Ah, yes, yes,” the mouse nodded, his glasses slipping slightly. “Which kind would you like?”

Sans tried to recall the names of the cheeses his mother would give them. He knew which ones he and his brother liked, and which ones they weren’t fond of. But there were so many names for cheese, he hoped he’d get the right kinds.

“Um,” Sans thought. “Do you have, um...extra white...uh, sharp cheese?”

“Hm, hmm,” the mouse furrowed his brow, thinking. “Let’s see...‘extra white sharp cheese’.... Hm, hmm... Do you, by any chance mean extra sharp white cheddar?”

Sans rubbed the back of his hooded head. “Um...maybe?”

The mouse gave a deep, tiny laugh and smiled. “Would a taste tell you, m’boy?”

“Oh,” Sans said, dropping his arm. “I don’t want to buy a cheese I don’t—”

“No, no, m’boy,” the mouse said, going over to a basket of cheese wheels, selecting a waxy, black, medium sized wheel. “Tastes don’t cost anything. How can you buy something you’re not sure of?”

Sans waggled his hands and shook his head. “Oh, no, sir, I don’t want to take anything from you like that—”

“Nonsense, m’boy,” the mouse laughed again. “I do this for all my customers who aren’t sure if they’d like a cheese or not.”

He dropped the wheel on a small counter behind the main one, his back to Sans. Sans watched as the mouse grabbed a metal wire with two wooden handles at both ends. He slid the wire under the wheel and grabbed the two ends, then, holding the wheel with his free hand, he pulled the handles as the wire slid through the cheese, slicing the wheel perfectly in half. He pulled apart the halves and took a sharp knife and cut an extremely thin sliver off the wheel. He removed the wax, placing it in an open glass jar, and put the slice on a small square of parchment paper. The mouse turned around and handed the cheese slice to Sans.

Although the wheel he had grabbed was jet black, the cheese he handed him was almost white, with a hint of yellow. Sans sniffed it, recognizing the scent instantly. To be sure, he folded up the thin sliver into a thicker piece and popped it into his mouth. A pleasured “mmm!” told the mouse this was indeed the cheese he wanted. He laughed as he turned and picked up one of the halves, then, placing a larger piece of parchment paper on the front counter, he put the cheese down. Holding the sharp knife, the mouse looked to Sans.

“Now, m’boy,” he smiled warmly. “What size wedge would you like?”

Sans judged how much would last them over the course of a week or more, and indicated where the wedge should be cut. The mouse scored a notch with the knife where Sans had pointed and returned the cheese to the back counter, and, using the wire, cut the wedge from the half. He placed it on the scale, then wrapped it up in parchment paper, tied it with baker’s twine, and wrote the price on it with a piece of charcoal.

“Anything else, m’boy?”

Sans asked for “smokey good cheese”—which turned out to be smoked gouda—and “part of dawn”—which was parmesan—trying each to be sure they were what he was looking for. Wedges of these cheeses were cut, wrapped, and added to the pile.

Sans nodded politely. “That should be all, sir.”

“Ah, yes, yes,” the mouse said, his whiskers twitching as he calculated the total.

He picked up the bag of granola cereal and looked at Sans over his spectacles. “Would you like to get some milk for this cereal, m’boy?”

Sans’ eyes grew wide. “You have milk? Yes sir, I would! Sorry, I didn’t know you had any.”

“That’s fine, m’boy,” the shopkeeper smiled, waving his hand to dismiss Sans’ apology. “I keep it over here to make sure it’s always chilly cold. Let me fetch you a bottle.”

The mouse went over to the right-side corner where a purple brick structure stood, at shoulder height to the shopkeeper. It had three long iron doors, one above the other. There was a gap underneath it, where two large, deep metal trays sat, partially filled with water. The top of it was a stone slab, on which a pile of cheese wheels sat.

The shopkeeper opened the top door and Sans could see the compartment was filled with glass bottles of milk surrounded by ice chips. Sans laughed to himself, having thought the structure was a furnace or oven when he had first laid eyes on it. He realized that the trays below were catching drips from the melting ice. The mouse pulled out a bottle of milk and shut the door, fastening the latch. He wiped the moisture away with a hand towel behind the counter.

“Now, m’boy, you have somewhere cold for this bottle to store, I trust?” he said, placing the dried bottle on the counter. “Otherwise, it will go bad quickly.”

Sans grinned, thinking about how he and his brother lived in the snow. “Yes, sir. It’ll be stored in a nice, cold place.”

“Ah, good, good,” the mouse smiled, adjusting his spectacles again.

Sans left the foodstuffs shop and shifted the weight of the heavy, bulging haversack. He worried about his brother, but he just had one more shop to visit, then he’d go home.

“Pap, I sure hope you’re staying safe,” he whispered under his breath, sighing.

One last shop. Then he’d head back home. He couldn’t wait to see Papyrus’ face when he saw all the amazing food he had purchased. They’d have their first proper meal since leaving their house so long ago.

Sans smiled to himself, then headed to the last shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, this chapter was incredibly hard for me to write, and not for the reasons you might think. 
> 
> What Sans is able to do in this chapter is something I’ve never been able to do in my adult life because of constant hardship--to be able to buy my own food with my own money. I've had to rely on food pantries and expired food from work for two long decades. Since I’ll never be able to have enough money to do so, I wanted to make sure to give these boys plenty of it. To be able to do what Sans does in this chapter is a privilege so many people don’t even realize they have. There are so many of us--myself included--who have to rely on ‘the hare’s crate behind the counter’ in order to survive.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Two brothers, many paths  
> Hand in hand, they mourn their past
> 
> Torn from home,  
> trapped underground  
> Hiding, fleeing,  
> scared to be found
> 
> Two brothers, many paths  
> Side by side, they grew up fast
> 
> The eldest grins.  
> “We’ll be fine, brother.  
> No matter what,  
> we have each other.”
> 
> Two brothers, many paths  
> Hand in hand, they’ll always last
> 
> \-----  
> To commemorate Undertale's 5th year anniversary and the 25th chapter of "Two Brothers, Many Paths", I drew and wrote this. Art and poetry are not my strong suit, and I wish I could have done that picture justice, but I hope you guys like it! :)
> 
> HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, UNDERTALE!  
> Here's to another 5 awesome years!

The thin hen shopkeeper was sitting behind the counter, knitting and humming as Sans approached. When she saw him from the corner of her eye, she laid her work on the counter and smiled at him.

“Good afternoon,” she said warmly, then furrowed her brow, raising her index primary feather to the side of her beak as she looked up into space. “Or is it ‘good evening’? Hmm....” She shook her head, then gave a shudder, ruffling her sooty grey feathers. “I don’t know, it’s so hard to tell time anymore without the sun.... Anywho—Good day!”

Sans grinned, nodding to her. “Good day, miss.”

“Is there anything I can help you find?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Oh, no,” he answered. “I’m just looking to see what you have.”

She gave a gentle smile. “Ok, then. Please let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”

Sans nodded politely again, and looked up at the shelves on the left of the shop.

There were so many different kinds of things—some items similar to those found in the other shops, and other products he had not seen sold elsewhere in the market. There were beautifully crafted pottery cups, vases, bowls, plates, and teacups, medicinal salves and bandages, candles of various heights and thicknesses, aprons for different needs, tin boxes with and without illustrations on them, gloves for work and for warmth, and so many other items in between. He picked out a small pot holder—they’d need one now that they finally _had_ a pot—and a bar of glycerin soap that smelled of cherries.

In front of the counter were four crates sitting on two large chests. The crates were filled with old books, sheets of parchment made of wood pulp, fabric fibers, or flower petals, and scrolls with useful information such as measurement conversions for cooking, identification of edible and poisonous plants, and even lists of difficult words with their definitions.

Seeing the paper reminded Sans of the bits of parchment he had been aching to use.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said, standing up straight to look over the counter.

The hen stood up, her knitting still in her wings. “Yes, dear?”

Sans saw that she was making a multicolored sock. “Ooh, that’s really good!”

She smiled. “Aww, thank you. I knit things for the orphans, the poor, and the wounded soldiers.”

Sans’ mouth dropped in awe. “That’s really nice of you to do that. I’m sure they love them.”

“I hope they do,” she said, her smile waning as she looked down at the half-finished sock. “It’s not much, and they’ve already gone through such incredible hardships.” The grip on her needles tightened, and she gave another shudder that fluffed her feathers. “I just try to help where I can, make things useful like socks and gloves for those who don’t have any. It can’t make up for their pain, but hopefully it brightens their moment. Even if it’s just a little bit.”

Sans smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure it does, miss. It lets them know that someone really cares about them.”

The thin hen smiled at the sock, then at Sans. “Thank you, that’s really kind of you to say. Sorry, you had a question?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sans answered, blinking. “I was wondering, do you have any pens or writing utensils?”

She frowned sadly. “I’m afraid not.... They go rather quickly, and they’re hard to get. All of my stock comes from other monsters who are selling me items they’ve made, no longer need, or need gold for more important things, like food. So I never know what I’ll get or when I’ll get new things. I’m sorry.”

Sans’ mouth twitched with disappointment, but he understood. “It’s all right. I’ll keep checking each time I come by.”

“I’ll certainly keep an eye out for you, and I’ll hold any aside I come across.”

Sans nodded in gratitude. “Thank you, miss, that’s so kind of you. I really appreciate that.”

“Let me know if there’s anything else you need help with, dear,” she said, smiling as she sat back down, resuming her knitting.

“Actually,” Sans said as he watched her count stitches. “This is a strange question, but.... The hare next door mentioned that there were monsters who collected food for the poor. If I had some food to give them, where would I find them?”

The hen smiled, her heart warming. “Well, aren’t you a dear. You’ll find the monsters who work on the food collections in the domed building in the northeast quadrant of the city.”

Sans looked at her blankly. “Northeast wha?”

She covered her beak with her wing as she laughed softly. “It’s the only domed building in the city.”

Sans looked relieved. “Ah! Yes, miss, I’ve seen it. I should be able to find it now, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she nodded. “I know that they will appreciate anything you can give them.”

Sans smiled sadly. “I know what it’s like to not have enough to eat, so if I can help anyone, I really want to try.”

The hen’s face fell, her heart breaking for the little skeleton at his admission.

“You’re an absolute sweetheart, you know that?” the hen said softly.

Sans felt the embarrassment burning his cheekbones. “Nah, I just...hate seeing anyone hurting.”

He pretended to be extremely interested in the hand towels folded up in a crate on the floor, as the hen beamed at him, then returned to her knitting, humming happily.

Once her gaze was off him, Sans started looking through the rest of the items, making his way towards the right side of the shop. There were clothes on shelves and tables starting near the entryway for adults, and children clothes towards the middle. He found a couple sets for himself and Papyrus in their sizes, ecstatic that he and his brother could finally change out of the clothes they had been wearing since they fled to the mountain.

At the end of the children’s clothes were toys. There were wooden blocks, plush monsters of different species, puzzles, balls, and other various playthings. Sans was looking at a small, red toy cart with working wheels, wondering if Papyrus would like it when he noticed the basket at the end of the toy shelves. The toy cart fell out of his hand onto the table as he gasped.

The basket was filled with teddy bears—all identical. They had soft, plush, brown “fur” and shiny black eyes. Their little smiles were stitched into their faces with dark brown thread, and their arms and legs were floppy, perfect for hugging.

Sans staggered to the basket, tears rolling down his face, his mouth hung open.

“I-it can’t be...,” he whispered in shock.

The hen heard him, and raised her eyes from her work to look over at him.

Sans pulled out one of the bears and looked at it, turning it this way and that in his hands.

“Are...are you all right...?” the hen asked gently, seeing Sans’ tear-soaked face.

Sans stared at the bear in his hands, looking into its eyes as he spoke, his voice shaking with emotion.

“M-my brother.... He had a teddy bear just like this...back home.... He loved that bear, couldn’t sleep without him in his crib.... When...when I packed food to leave...I-I should have...I should have gone upstairs and gotten him.... But I didn’t.... I was too scared, I only grabbed food, I didn’t even _think_ about his bear.... We left him behind, and now.... My brother never complained or mentions him, but I know he misses him a lot.... My brother lost so much that day.... Our home...his teddy bear... _Mommy_....”

Sans hugged the bear and wept bitterly into it. The hen tossed her knitting on the counter and rushed over to him. He clutched her, weeping into her dress as she enfolded him in her wings. She held him as he cried his eyes out, telling her how he watched their mother fighting the humans, and how he watched her die. How she might still be alive if she hadn’t seen him and run to him. How it was his fault his brother didn’t have their mother any more.

She let him speak until his words were exhausted, then shushed him soothingly, rocking him gently as he cried loudly from his broken soul. It had been too long since Sans had been comforted like this by an adult, too long since he had taken on the adult role for his brother’s sake while still only being a child himself. Being embraced by the caring hen allowed him to drop the walls of false strength and competence he had built up over time, and to grieve like the hurting child he truly was.

After a while, he calmed down, sniffling and stammering out apologies for breaking down like that.

“No, no,” she whispered, wiping his eyes with her pinion feathers. “Don’t apologize. I know how hard it is to lose someone you love so very much.”

“R-really...?” he whimpered, his lower lip still quivering. “Did...did _you_...?”

He didn’t finish, regretting even asking such an invasive, personal question.

The hen shut her eyes and nodded.

“I was with my best friend at the market buying food for dinner. The Royal Guard came—tried to get everyone to leave quickly. There had been a horde of humans spotted in the area, and it was unsafe. Someone shouted and soon everyone was looking into the sky. Plumes of smoke, rising in different directions—multiple fires all around the area. I panicked—one of the columns of smoke was coming from where my house was. My friend and I, we rushed to my house with a few of the Guards, and....”

She choked back her tears, her body shuddering as her feathers bristled. Then her tears fell freely.

“My house was in flames.... My friend had to hold me back because I tried to run inside to save my family. The Guards—they went in. They went in to try to find my dear husband and my four precious children.... Wh-when they came out, I-I saw their faces, and I knew.... The next day, the evacuation order came out. My friend—she let me stay with her that terrible night, and then we left together for this mountain.... And now, we’re here....”

Sans looked up at her, his face broken with sympathy for the poor hen. When she finished her story, he hugged her tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry....”

She patted him with her wingtips, then dried her eyes on her feathers.

“Thank you,” she said, straining to steady her voice. “This war...this conflict...it has cost us all _so much_....”

They hugged each other tightly once more. Then the hen pulled back and put on a warm smile. She nudged the teddy bear, still in Sans’ hands.

“The important thing is to rebuild and comfort those who are still with us.”

Sans looked down at the teddy bear and nodded sadly.

With a deep sigh, the hen ruffled Sans’ hooded head and went back behind the counter. Sans placed the teddy bear and the other items—still sitting on the clothes table—onto the counter.

She totaled the items, and gave Sans the amount. He blinked at her.

“But, wait, miss,” he said, confused. “It should be much more than that.”

“I’m not charging you for the teddy bear,” she smiled warmly.

Sans gasped, his eyebrows raised pleadingly. “No, wait! You don’t have to—”

She reached over the counter and ruffled the top of his head again. “My dear, I don’t run this shop to make a profit. I started this shop to help others out. There is _no way_ I could accept gold for your brother’s bear.”

“Th-thank you, miss,” he stammered, stunned. “I-I don’t know what to say....”

“You’re so welcome,” she smiled as he placed the items in his bag. “And, please, call me Ashen.”

Sans smiled back, shouldering the bulging haversack. “Thank you, Ashen. And my name is Sans.”

“Well, Sans,” she said, giving a shudder that sent her sooty grey feathers rippling. “It was so nice to meet you, and I really do hope you come back to see me again soon.”

“I will, Ashen,” he nodded. “I’m so happy to have met you. Thank you for...for _everything_.”

The two new friends waved goodbye, and Sans left the shop.

Sans hurried down the road, looking left and right frantically for an empty alleyway. The city was filled with monsters, so finding somewhere unoccupied was difficult. Eventually he found a small path between two buildings that appeared empty, and slipped down it. Making sure no one was in sight, he shut his eyes, then stepped forward.

He felt the frigid air as he opened his eyes, arriving in front of the shelter. He wasted no time in digging out the entrance, calling to his brother so he wouldn’t be afraid someone was invading the shelter.

Sans panicked for a moment when he heard no response, but as soon as he came into the main room, he saw Papyrus, fast asleep on the bed under several fabric scraps.

 _Poor thing,_ Sans thought as he unshouldered the bag and put it on the bed.

He nudged his brother gently. “Pap? Wake up, Pap.”

The little skeleton moaned as he was roused, then snapped awake. He gasped and threw himself against his brother, hugging him so tight, Sans’ bones popped.

“I’m so, so sorry that took so long, Pap,” Sans apologized, returning the hug.

“Pa scared mosters take Sas,” Papyrus whimpered, nestling his face in his brother’s chest. “But Pa did what Sas said, waited here, waited for Sas. Sas okay?”

Sans rubbed the top of his brother’s head gently. “Yeah, I’m ok. I’m sorry I scared you. But...well...I have something I’ve got to tell you.”

Papyrus sat back on the bed, a look of utter terror on his face, fearing bad news.

“No, no,” Sans grinned, waggling his hands and shaking his head. “It’s nothing bad or anything. But, well, you see....”

Sans sat on the bed, rubbing the back of his skull as he dreaded his upcoming confession. He couldn’t even look his brother in the eyes.

“I, uh...went...into...the...cavern...,” he murmured, each word getting lower and more mumbled.

Papyrus’ jaw nearly fell off his skull as his eyes grew wider than apples.

“Now, wait, hang on,” Sans said, his eyebrows raised pleadingly. “Before you get upset, let me explain.”

“Sas gonna leave Pa...?” The little skeleton’s whisper was barely audible.

“ _No!_ Of course not, Papyrus! I’d _never_ leave you. I snuck in there to get some food!”

Papyrus blinked, his mouth still hanging open.

“Listen,” Sans urged. He then started _partially_ explaining everything—leaving out the part where he planned this trip for the last month and how he had put himself at serious risk of getting caught. “I saw the carts going into the cavern, and I saw them growing the trees with magic, so I thought ‘huh, maybe they’re growing food in there,’ so I jumped on the cart and found out that they have a _huge city_ in there now, with a market, and I got a whole bunch of great food, and now that I’ve been there, I can just use my magic to go back in there anytime we need more!”

Sans grinned winningly at his brother while he panted after spouting out his explanation in a single breath.

Papyrus slowly closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes. An eyebrow soon started to rise as the little skeleton frowned. He gave an exasperated sigh that sounded more like a huff.

“Sas go in cav, coulda been taken by mosters! What if Sas caught?!”

Sans shut his eyes, grinning wider. “Then I would have used my magic and come right back here.”

Papyrus grumbled as his expression softened. “Sas really get food?”

Sans opened his eyes, then gave his brother a wink. “Yup. A _lot_ of food.”

The little skeleton’s face brightened more, the risky adventure being forgiven.

Sans jumped up off the bed and went to the foot of the bed where the haversack was. He showed his brother the purchases he made and told him how he used his own gems to buy them. Papyrus gasped at each loaf, vegetable, fruit, and item that emerged from the bag. Sans withheld the cookie as an after-dinner-surprise, but saved the best for last.

“ _And..._ ,” Sans said, drawing the syllable out as long as he could. “You will _never_ guess who I found looking for you in the cavern!”

Papyrus sat on the bed, looking up at him, curiously.

Sans slowly pulled out the teddy bear.

The little skeleton gasped so sharply, Sans thought his lungs would tear. Papyrus held his hands to his cheekbones as his mouth remained open, his eyes brimming with tears.

“ _Teddy...?_ ” Papyrus spoke his teddy bear’s name in a high-pitched, breathy gasp that cut Sans right to his soul.

Sans nodded, holding him out to his brother. Papyrus couldn’t believe his eyes, slowly moving closer, as if he was dreaming and afraid to wake up. He reached out with a trembling hand and grabbed the bear by the tummy, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Teddy! _Teddy!_ ” Papyrus wept happily, his eyes shut tight as tears spilled out.

Sans wiped his own tears on his sleeves, the smile on his face unable to wane.

The two skeleton brothers just stared at it, neither of them able to utter a single word or make the slightest of sounds. They couldn’t move, let alone blink, as they sat, dumbfounded.

It was just too unbelievable.

Their dinner was laid out on their little snow “dining table.” They had prepared it together, cutting, chopping, toasting, combining—enjoying every second of their time making their meal perfect.

Their new wooden bowls were filled with fresh salad, comprised of baby spinach, sliced mouseshroom nightlights, chopped reed stalks, diced tomatoes, pine nuts, and crumbled parmesan cheese, all drizzled with an oil dressing infused with herbs and garlic.

On their new little plates were a couple slices of warmed crusty wheat bread, a small hunk of smoked gouda, a few nuts, and several carrot slices.

Their new wooden cups were filled with ice cold water—Sans had melted some snow in their new pot by the fire, poured the water into the cups, and put chunks of snow in them to chill the water back up. While they didn’t need water to survive—being skeletons, it was impossible for them to suffer thirst or dehydration—it was certainly nice to have something to wash their food down with again.

Sans had set down burlap pieces for placemats, folding up some smaller scraps for napkins and placing their new wooden cutlery on top. Nestled under their bowls and plates were the little parchment pastry bags—Sans insisting that Papyrus not peek inside until after he finished his dinner.

They continued staring in silence, the only sounds in the little shelter being the crackling of the magical flame and the occasional growl of a skeleton stomach.

“This looks amazing,” Sans whispered at last.

“Yeah,” Papyrus breathed in agreement.

Sans gave a small laugh of disbelief, glancing up at his brother. “No more hungry nights, Pap.”

“Yeah,” Papyrus looked up at his brother and smiled.

Sans looked back at their meal and sighed happily. “We should start eating, or we _will_ be going to bed hungry again.”

“Yeah,” Papyrus giggled.

They slowly picked up their utensils and started their salads. The two brothers looked at each other, joyous groans emitting from their chewing mouths at the delicious tastes they were experiencing. Then they went at the food with gusto, savoring every single bite.

Sans was wiping the last remnant of dressing from his empty bowl with his final bite of wheat bread, as Papyrus had picked up his bowl to his mouth, pushing the last fragments into his open mouth.

Sans finished just before his brother, and couldn’t help but grin as he watched Papyrus, his face hidden behind the tilted bowl. His soul felt fuller than his stomach, knowing that his little brother finally had a proper, healthy meal after so long.

Papyrus licked his bowl clean, then set it back down on the burlap placemat with a satisfied “ahh!” He then looked up at his brother expectantly.

“Can Pa open now?”

Sans grinned and nodded. “Yes, you can open it now. I hope you like it.”

Papyrus cautiously opened the bag, as if a fragile treasure might be within. He peered into it and gasped, looking up at Sans. “ _Cookie!_ ”

Sans smiled as his brother pulled out the large cookie and gave a huge chomp into it. He took out his own and bit into it, relishing its sweet, chocolaty goodness. They both ate their cookies with the occasional “mmm,” the crunching and munching overpowering the crackling of the fire in the other room.

Not a single piece of snow was consumed that night, for their stomachs were entirely satisfied.

After dinner, they washed their new dishes in one of the buckets with melted snow water and the glycerin soap. They dried them with burlap, then Sans created another bone shelf in the pantry side boulder, placing the clean wooden dishes up on it.

Sans emptied out the dishwater several feet away from their shelter entrance, scrubbing it out with clean snow, then came back inside to fill it back up with clean water. They changed into their fresh new clothes, and Sans washed their old clothes in the bucket with the soap, rinsed it in another bucket, and, after wringing them out, hung them up on the warming rack bones to dry overnight. The feel of clean, soft, new fabrics felt so comfortable and cozy to both of them. Sans then emptied the dirty water from both buckets outside in a different spot, scrubbed them clean with another handful of snow, then dried them with a scrap of rough cloth.

Sans took the little pot that was melting snow and poured it into the clean water bucket next to the “bowl” dug out of snow, which was filled to overflowing with fruits and vegetables. He stuffed the little pot to the brim with snow from the pile for making snow treats, then placed it back on the bones he had made to dry out the pine cones at the left edge of the fire basin to melt overnight.

Once they were done cleaning up and putting things away, they played together a bit before bedtime. Then they climbed into bed, Papyrus making his blue bones disappear to darken the room. Sans pulled up the fabrics over them as Papyrus snuggled up to his brother, clutching his beloved Teddy in the crook of his arm.

Sans told Papyrus all about the shopkeepers he had met and the things he had seen. He noticed that his brother had fallen asleep somewhere during the part where he was returning home. He nuzzled into his brother’s forehead and followed him into slumber.

The two brothers slept soundly with full bellies and happy souls as the gentle winds outside blew swirls of snowflakes around their hidden shelter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, thank you so much for reading "Two Brothers, Many Paths"! I can't believe we're at 25 chapters already!
> 
> Thank you for reading, for your kudos, for your comments, and for sharing this story. It means so much to me to know that you guys are enjoying my story, because I absolutely adore writing it.
> 
> There's still so much more to go for Sans and Papyrus, so don't worry, we're not even CLOSE to coming to the end!
> 
> Thanks again, I appreciate you all! :)


	26. Chapter 26

Sans slipped out of bed the next morning, hoping not to wake Papyrus, who was still snoozing with his face snuggled into Teddy. Sans stretched, his bones playing their usual melody of popping and cracking.

He wasn’t sure if it was the dinner or the exhilaration from the day before, but he wasn’t as sluggish as he was most mornings. He felt energetic for once and took advantage of it, not knowing if it was merely a temporary boost of stamina.

He emptied the water in the pot into the clean water bucket, refilled it with more snow, then set it by the fire basin to melt. He grinned, glad that this new system meant they always had water. Then he went outside to grab several armfuls of snow for the pile in the pantry—melting snow now meant they were going through the pile quicker than before. After he had made a few trips, he sealed the entrance and brushed his arms and hands free of snow.

He went over to the woodpile in the corner and picked up a piece of wood, noting that their supply was dwindling. He fed the wood to the magical flame, then checked the melting damage to the walls. He saw a few places that needed patching, so he used some of the snow from the pile to fill in thinning areas of the fire room walls. His brother showed no signs of waking soon, so Sans put on his jacket and shoes and went outside to add snow to the thinning roof of the fire room.

When he climbed up the left boulder, he checked the roof of the main room. He smiled, seeing that it was fine, and that the regular snowfall had given it more layers naturally. He added snow to the fire room roof, which was in fairly good shape. Once he was finished, he slid off the boulder and went back inside.

Papyrus was in the exact same position as he was when Sans left, and his older brother couldn’t help but smile. He was glad to see his brother sleeping well, having had no nightmares for a while. Sans took off his jacket and hung it up on the coat hook, then started his morning workout routine, minus the weight training since the weight was still asleep.

After he completed his daily exercises, he started to prepare breakfast. He pulled down the wooden bowls and granola cereal from the shelves, and carefully opened the package. He poured some into each bowl and rolled it back up tightly, placing it back on the shelf. He grabbed the bottle of milk sitting on the floor, buried to the top in packed snow. He twisted the metal cap, a popping noise emitting from underneath as the sealed milk was open, and poured it over the cereal. Then he returned it to the milk bottle-shaped hole in the snow mound, packing the snow around it tightly.

As he was grabbing a banana, Papyrus woke up. The little skeleton sat up in the bed, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes with one hand, the other still clutching his bear.

“Morning, Pap,” Sans grinned as he peeled the banana.

“Monin, Sas,” his brother yawned.

Papyrus stretched his arms up in the air, his bones giving off tiny pops. He tucked Teddy under some fabric, then climbed off the bed to help Sans.

“I’m making cereal,” Sans exclaimed, smiling widely. “Want some toast with it?”

“Ooh! Yes, please!” Papyrus answered excitedly.

“If I cut it, will you toast it for us?” Sans asked, pulling down the soft loaf of multigrain bread.

“Okay!” Papyrus agreed, happy to oblige.

Sans cut two slices of bread and handed them to his brother, who then disappeared into the fire room to make toast. Sans cut the banana in half, sliced up the halves, then put the banana pieces on the cereal. He left the bowls on the prep table to get the burlap and spoons for the place settings and set their little table. Once the table was ready, he put the bowls on the placemats and went over to the shelf to grab their plates and one of the wooden knives.

“What do you want on your toast?” Sans called to his brother. “Peanut butter or grape, mixed fruit, or strawberry jelly?”

“Umm,” Papyrus hummed, deciding from the options. “Gwape, please.”

Sans pulled the jar of grape jelly down from the shelf and opened it with a pop louder than the milk. He went into the fire room just as Papyrus was pulling the spear off the flame. Sans took the tiny white bone and pushed the toasty bread onto the plates and returned to the prep table as Papyrus stuck the spear into the snowy floor to cool.

Sans laid the plates on the prep table and grabbed their cups.

“Want to grab us some water from that bucket over there?” Sans asked, indicating where the bucket was.

“Okay!” Papyrus answered eagerly.

Sans handed them to his brother, who dipped them into the bucket to fill up and placed them on the table at each setting. As Papyrus did that, Sans spread the toast with grape jelly, sealed and returned the jar, and brought the toast over to the table.

The two brothers enjoyed another luscious meal together, licking their bowls clean. They washed their dishes, then put away the settings and dishes as Sans laid out his plans for the day.

“I figured,” he said, as he dried the dishwashing bucket out. “That since we don’t need to forage today, we should spend most of it training our magic. What do you think?”

Papyrus gasped happily. Training in the past had been sparse and short, since foraging for food had been given the highest priority. He was ecstatic to spend the day training, as he really wanted to get better at his bone magic.

Sans chuckled at the expression on his brother’s face. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

He grabbed one of the cloth bags of dried fruit and two apples as his brother put on his shoes. He put on his jacket, stuffed the food in his pockets, then wrapped the scarf on Papyrus. Holding hands, Sans took a step and they were gone.

Sans looked up at the tall rock walls, marveling at the sheer height of them. The wind-blown snow pressed up against them in curved slopes as the gusts curled currents of new snowflakes against them.

Sans had transported them to the torch-lit path where the end of the valley and the start of the darkened area converged. He had led Papyrus towards the right, keeping the watery darkness on their left. Soon the threshold between the two vastly different areas ended, and they reached the giant cavern wall that enclosed the snowy valley. They had kept trudging through the deep snow, the rocky wall on their left until they reached another wall, arriving at the very corner of the valley.

He turned from the walls, looking out into the vast whiteness before him. The cavern, with its large city within its walls, was too far away to be seen, making this corner the perfect place for bone magic training—the monsters wouldn’t be able to spot them, and the corner gave them additional cover and protection from any potential humans that might be within the mountain. A grin crept across his face as he put his hands on his hips, having found the best training ground he could have asked for.

“Ok, Pap,” he said, turning to his brother. “You stay here.”

Papyrus watched as his brother walked away from the corner for about fifteen feet and built a hasty, tall, thin pile of snow that reached his shoulders. He walked several feet away from the odd snow sculpture and created another one. After he had made a dozen of these, he walked back to Papyrus and stood next to him, joining his brother in looking out at the tall snow creations spread randomly about in front of them.

“Ok, Pap,” Sans said, brushing the snow off his clothes. “See if you can hit those with ground attacks.”

Papyrus looked up at his brother incredulously. He was asking a _lot_ from him, since the best the little skeleton had produced was a set of white bones from the ground in front of him. What Sans expected from him was a _moving_ attack—something he had never done before.

Sans looked back at him, grinning. He purposefully didn’t tell his brother how to send bones from the ground forward because he wanted to see how his brother did with his own skills and intuition.

Papyrus turned to face his snow targets, narrowed his eyes, and raised his right hand. A few white bones shot up from the ground right in front of him and stayed there. He frowned and whimpered at his failed attempt and made the bones disappear.

“That was a great try, Pap!” Sans exclaimed encouragingly. “You’ve got the position of your hand perfect for stationary bones. Now, let me show you how to give them direction.”

Sans raised his left hand up and created a single, tall white bone several feet away from the snow targets.

“You’re going to do the same thing where you picture what you want to create, but also picture the movement—the path they are going to take, how fast they are going to reach it. As you’re doing that, you’re going to start with your hand here.” He pointed his palm downwards at his side, just in front of his feet. “Then you’re going to ‘push’ the path of the bones forward, raising your hand up until you reach your target.”

Holding his arm out straight, he rapidly swung his arm up in an arc until it was level with the white bone he had created, his palm facing the target. As he performed the movement, a single white bone shot from the ground and headed straight for the tall bone, smacking right into it as the stationary bone shattered. It had followed the path his palm had “carved out” for it, as if he had mentally pushed the bone at the target.

Papyrus’ eyes grew wide in admiration. “Ooh....”

“You’ll start off with just one bone,” Sans explained, making the bones disappear, then creating another tall target bone. “Then, when you get better at it, you’ll be able to do multiple bones. Like this.”

He repeated the same swift upward arc of his left arm, his palm forming the path for the bones to take as a dozen bones followed the path, one behind the other, until they hit their target, completely obliterating it. Sans made all his bones disappear, then turned to his brother.

“See?”

Papyrus blinked, then looked at his targets. He whimpered, completely unsure of himself. His brother was a master at bones, how could he ever hope to emulate him?

“You can do this, Pap,” Sans said. “It will take practice, but you can do this. Look at all the incredible stuff you’ve already learned to do! You’ve got this. I believe in you.”

Papyrus took a deep breath, not wanting to let his brother down. He focused on the right-most snow target. He imagined a bone, coming up from the ground, heading straight for it, and hitting the target. He held his right hand out by his side, facing his tiny palm at the ground in front of him. Imitating the movement his brother had shown him, Papyrus flung his arm up.

A small white bone shot from the ground and went forward a few inches before stopping, fixed in its spot.

Papyrus groaned with a whimper—another failure. His brother, however, was ecstatic.

“Papyrus!” Sans said, waving his arms up in the air. “That was awesome! You got your bone to move! I knew you could do it! Keep going!”

The little skeleton felt a little better. The bone _did_ move, after all. He made the bone disappear, then he narrowed his eyes, ready to try again. He performed the same movements, concentrating really hard and grunting with exertion.

Another white bone sprung up, going a few inches further, its path slightly zigzagging before coming to a halt.

Papyrus sighed, convinced he was too young and weak at magic to do it, as his brother celebrated his attempt emphatically.

“That was even farther! You can do it!”

Papyrus made several more attempts. Each one got further from the last, but their paths weren’t straight—some veered off to one side, some going left and right like a thunderbolt, and one even made a turn and headed back towards him. None of them even came close to the cluster of targets.

The little skeleton plopped down on the snow, whimpering and on the verge of tears. Sans sat next to him and handed him a dried cherry.

“Don’t get down, Pap,” he said, his voice low and soothing as he put his arm around his little brother. “It took me a while, too. But trust me, you’re doing amazing. Look at how far you’ve gotten them to go! This is hard stuff, but each try makes you better at it. _Really_.”

Papyrus chewed the fruit as a noise of disbelief rumbled in his throat. Sans gave him a gentle, encouraging squeeze. After Papyrus swallowed, they stood back up.

Ten more attempts, each better than the last. Ten failures in Papyrus’ eye, ten successes in Sans’. Sans gave him some suggestions on his technique and showed him the movement a few times, slowing it down so he could see exactly what it looked like.

As time went on, the path to the target got further and straighter. Even Papyrus could see that he was improving, and that, along with his brother cheering him on, made him feel better. He started to actually _believe_ that he could do it with enough practice. He started performing the motion with more confidence, and as he did, he got better, until....

_SHWFF!_

The right-most snow target exploded in a burst of white as Papyrus’ bone struck into it.

Papyrus stood staring at the crumbled pile of snow and his bone just behind it as Sans jumped up and down, shouting excitedly.

“ _You did it!_ You hit it perfectly! I _knew_ you could do it, Pap! _You’re amazing!_ ”

Papyrus waved his hands high up in the air, beaming. “ _I did it!_ ”

Sans gave him a dried apple piece and rubbed the top of his brother’s skull. “That was incredible! Great job, Pap!”

Papyrus popped the apple into his mouth and chewed it, smiling. “Fanks. Wanna hit more!”

“Go for it!” Sans grinned. “I just know you’ll be able to knock ‘em all down!”

The little skeleton narrowed his eyes as he swallowed the fruit that would build back up his spent magic. The look of determination on his face would have had the snow targets cowering if they were sentient. He attacked the next target, and wasn’t even disheartened when he missed the first several times. On the seventh attempt, he hit the second target, and the two brothers jumped up and down once again.

Papyrus began fine-tuning his technique, getting better at his aim and distance as he tried to take down the rest of the targets. He was getting a better understanding at how the magic worked, feeling that he had more control using his hand than before when he was blindly flinging his arm upwards. By the time the final three snow targets were all that remained, he was able to hit them in only two or three tries.

Sans watched, dumbfounded. His brother was incredibly powerful and caught on surprisingly fast. He thought of his own difficulty in learning, and didn’t tell his brother that it took him a week before he was able to hit a target for fear of discouraging him. Papyrus didn’t seem to have difficulty at all in learning to use his magic. Sans shook his head, shutting his eyes as he smiled—why was he so surprised? His brother had always been amazing.

Sans set up another dozen snow targets for his brother, and as Papyrus attacked them, Sans practiced his own magic as he watched. He still wasn’t able to created a blue bone hand weapon. The best he had come up with was a blue bone with a slightly thinner epiphysis on one end.

He wished he knew what he was missing. He thought it would be just like a regular blue bone—picture it and form it. Why was this so hard for him?

He clasped his hands once again, concentrating hard with clenched teeth. He pulled his hands apart slowly, urging the sharp point in his mind to form at the end. “C’mon.... _C’mon_....”

The bone formed and sat in his hand—another normal blue bone. He made it disappear with a frustrated grunt. He shoved his hand in his pocket and grabbed the cloth pouch, pulled out a dried apricot, and shoved it in his mouth. He was starting to get angry at himself for being too stupid to figure this magic out.

He clasped his hands again angrily, his palms stinging from the force. He shut his eyes tightly in frustration.

_Why can’t I do this? I’ve got to be doing something wrong. Why am I so terrible at this?!_

He pulled his hands apart, only to form yet another regular bone. He flung it hard against the wall in his fury at himself, the clacking startling Papyrus. Sans held his head in his hands as his elbows rested on his knees.

Papyrus approached his brother cautiously. “Sas?”

Sans sighed, not moving or looking up. “Sorry, Pap. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at myself.”

“Why?” his brother asked, sitting next to him in the snow.

“Because I can’t get a _stupid_ bone to have a _stupid_ point on it because I’m too _stupid_ to do it.”

Sans shut his eyes tightly to keep the tears inside his eyes.

Papyrus leaned against his brother and sighed softly. “When Pa make bones no move, Pa sad, not mad, at self. Pa felt dumb, bad at magic. Den Sas make Pa feel better.”

Sans grumbled incoherently.

“Sas really good at magic, even dough Sas fink Sas is bad. Sas do _really_ big fings wif magic. Make stairs, make big slides, make home. Pa can’t do dat. Sas not stupid, Sas really smart. Pa believes in Sas. Pa always believes in Sas, even when Sas don’t believe in hisself.”

Sans wrapped his arm around his brother and squeezed him gently. His frustration was thick in his voice.

“Thanks, Pap. But I’m just not able to do it. I know you believe in me, but.... I just _can’t_ do it. I’ve been trying for so long now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do it....”

Papyrus thought for a moment, staring out at the remaining snow targets.

“Lookit alla snow Pa hit,” he said quietly, pointing at the piles of fallen targets.

Sans looked up, smiling slightly. “Heh, yeah.... You’re doing _really_ good, Pap.”

“Know how I hit dem?” Papyrus asked, still looking at the damage he had done.

“Uh, with your bone magic,” his brother answered with the obvious, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” Papyrus shook his head. “Pa tried, no hit snow. Pa wanna give up, wanna cry. But Sas say, ‘Keep goin! Youkin do it!’ So Pa keep tryin, cuz Sas believes in Pa. If Sas fink Pa can do it, den Pa _can_ do it. So Pa did it, an hit dem, cuz Sas knew Pa could.”

He then looked up at his brother and waited until Sans met his eyes before continuing.

“Pa din’t believe in myself. But Sas did, an dat made Pa believe in myself, an den I did it. Sas don’t believe in hisself, but Pa does. So believe in youself cuz Pa believes in you. Den, youkin do it, too.”

Sans looked into his brother’s eyes, seeing a firm, genuine confidence in him that he himself did not have. It stirred his soul with encouragement and deep appreciation for his brother. He turned and hugged Papyrus, rubbing his back gently.

“Thanks, Papyrus,” he whispered as his chin lay on his brother’s shoulder. “That means so much to me.”

“Welcome, Sas,” Papyrus replied. “Pa know youkin do it. An Sas will.”

Sans pulled back, grinning sadly at him as he turned back forward. “I hope so. I really do.”

He sighed, deciding to give it one last try before lunch. He clasped his hands with Papyrus watching, and pulled them apart slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Please, _please,”_ he begged his magic.

Another regular blue bone.

Sans growled in frustration, whipping the bone into the air.

Papyrus put a hand on his brother’s arm comfortingly. “S’ok, don’t give up.”

Sans stuffed the fury at himself down with a sigh and forced a grin on his face. “Yeah, you’re right. Hey, why don’t we both have something to eat before we continue practicing?”

The little skeleton perked up at the thought of food. “Okay!”

Sans pulled out the two apples from his pocket and handed the larger one to his brother. He took a bite out of his, focusing on the juicy sweetness in his mouth instead of the fiery anger in his chest. He glanced over at Papyrus and groaned.

His brother was struggling to take a bite, his jaws unable to get a grip on the roundness of the apple. In his eagerness to leave, Sans had completely forgotten to cut the apples into wedges as he normally did for his brother. It had been so long since they had had apples that it completely slipped his mind. He smacked himself hard in the forehead, berating himself internally.

_Another mess up for the utter failure.... How typical._

He held out his hand for the apple, and Papyrus put it in his brother’s palm. Putting down his own apple next to him, Sans tried to break his brother’s apple with his bare hands, but couldn’t manage anything other than grunting and strain.

Sans was so frustrated with himself he could scream.

“Just great,” he muttered dropping the apple into his lap as he grabbed the sides of his skull, his voice shaking with rage. “Can’t even remember to cut the apples before we go.”

Papyrus looked up at him sadly, not because he couldn’t eat, but because his brother was being so hard on himself.

“S’ok, Sas,” he said placatingly. “Pa eat when we go home. Pa not dat hungy.”

“Y’know,” Sans spat out, an edge of sarcasm slicing through his tone. “It would be _real nice_ if I could just remember the simple stuff. Or, gee, I don’t know— _be able to do the magic I should be able to do to fix this!_ If I wasn’t so stupid, all I’d have to do is _this_ ”—he clapped his hands together loudly and pulled them apart swiftly—“and problem solved!”

The two skeletons gasped in unison, staring at the blue bone in Sans’ hand.

It had the usual epiphysis on the bottom where his fingers grasped it. But past the halfway point, the bone flattened and widened, as if it had been pressed. Along the edge of the flat part was a small, tooth-like pattern, ending at the very tip, which was sharp.

It was a knife.

The two stared at it, neither able to speak or move. The sight of the object in his hand cut off any remaining anger or frustration Sans felt.

Sans blinked, the blue-white light illuminating his face. “Is...is that...?”

Papyrus’ face slowly melted into one of pure joy.

“Sas...,” he whispered softly. “Dassa knife....”

“It’s a knife...,” Sans agreed, though he couldn’t believe it.

_“It’s a knife!”_ the two shouted simultaneously, both getting to their feet, the apple in Sans’ lap flying into the snow.

Papyrus started jumping up and down, waving his arms excitedly as Sans held the knife out in front of him, still pointed upwards, as he put his other hand to his skull in disbelief.

“Sas did it! Sas did it! Pa _knew_ Sas could do it!”

“I did it!” Sans exclaimed loudly. “I finally made a hand weapon!”

Papyrus whooped for his brother, as Sans looked over at him.

“Pap,” he said, gently. “Thank you. I couldn’t have done this if you hadn’t believed in me. I know I was frustrated and upset, but—I never would have kept going if you didn’t say what you did. _Thank you._ You were right—you believed in me, because I could do it, and I did it.”

Sans hugged Papyrus tightly, taking care not to injure his brother with the knife. Papyrus returned the hug joyfully, his pride in his big brother vastly apparent.

Sans pulled back from the hug and stared at the knife as his brother continued cheering. It was definitely a knife, but how on earth did he create it?

It didn’t matter—all that mattered right now was that he _finally_ did it. He plopped back on the snow and picked up his brother’s apple and cautiously began cutting into it. He feared it breaking or snapping, but it sliced through the apple perfectly.

Soon, Papyrus was munching on apple wedges as his brother continued staring at his creation. He was still at a loss as to how he had created it, so, just as he had done when he discovered his teleportation magic, he ran through what he was doing at the time.

He was definitely angry and frustrated, that was clear. But he tossed the idea that his emotions had anything to do with it aside, since he’d seen his parents create hand weapons without rage. And it couldn’t be as simple as picturing the shape and type, as he had been doing that for weeks. There had to be something else....

He tried making another knife, but was only able to manage a regular bone again.

_What’s different?_ He thought, rubbing his hand over his face.

He ran through the moment again in his mind, trying to pinpoint what would have made that time successful after so many failures.

_“—and problem solved!”_

Sans’ eyes twitched in sudden realization. He might have been upset, he may have done it to prove the point that he was unable to do it, but deep down, he was creating the knife because he _needed_ it.

_It wouldn’t be that simple, would it?_ He wondered, looking over at the knife he had placed, point down, in the snow.

_I need another knife, to cut my own apple,_ he spoke in his mind to whatever forces of magic where listening as he pictured a knife just as he had done for weeks, exactly like the one in the snow.

He clasped his hands, and as he pulled them apart, another knife appeared.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” he muttered, laughing incredulously to himself.

Papyrus noticed it and lowered the apple wedge he was munching on.

“Sas did it again!” he cheered happily.

“Yeah,” Sans answered, grinning at his brother. “I think I might have figured out how to do it.”

_I could use a skewer to pick the wedges up._ He pictured it in his mind.

Once again, he clasped his hands, and as he pulled them apart, a long, thin, sharp skewer bone appeared between his palms.

“I can’t believe this,” Sans said, laughing more as he shook his head. “I know what to do now.”

He looked at the thin skewer and wondered once more.

_I could also use a large sword...._

This time, he only managed a regular bone. Frowning, the warning from his parents suddenly came into mind.

_“Sans, hand weapons are for older skeletons. You could get hurt, or hurt someone else. It’s a special form of bone magic, not a frivolous form of magic.”_

For years, he thought that meant he shouldn’t cast it needlessly. Now he understood—he was unable to cast it unless he had a need for it. He knew from his parents that all magic came from the soul. He realized now that that was why things like picturing for bones and the desire to be somewhere for transportation were necessary for the magic to work. So of course it would be the same with a magic that could create seriously dangerous weapons. He didn’t really need the sword, and deep in his soul, he knew that. That’s why he couldn’t create it.

Sans put his hands on the snowy ground behind him so he could lean back. He had finally done it—he had learned hand weapon magic. And he also realized a lot more about the importance of his soul’s role in his magic, something he had never really given much thought about before.

Papyrus finished his apple and went back to practice his ground attack magic as Sans sat silently in the snow, contemplating his new understandings and findings.

The wintry winds blew gently against the valley corner, sending light snowflakes in sprawling gusts. The two brothers continued far into the afternoon, each fine-tuning their magic—one on his technique, the other in his knowledge. 


	27. Chapter 27

Over the next several weeks, life for the two brothers fell into a normalcy that they hadn’t had since they left their home to flee to Mt. Ebott. They were able to shift from merely surviving day to day to simply _living_ their lives.

They woke up each morning to prepare a healthy, hearty breakfast together, performed their daily workout routine, and did a few chores before setting out for the day. On some days they would go to the corner of the valley to train their bone magic. On others, they would explore—no longer did they need to forage, thanks to the ample supply of fresh food in their pantry.

During their explorations, they ventured to new places they had never had the chance to see since their foraging trips had limited them to the torch-lit path. Making sure not to be seen by those behind the ever-closed cavern doors, they investigated more of the snowy valley.

Sans found that the long, grey strip that he had seen from the cavern tunnel entrance so long ago was actually a thin river that ran through the valley. On the cavern’s side, the river snaked behind the cavern’s outer wall, beyond where they could walk as the rocky walls were too difficult and dangerous to climb. The other end of the river ran through the darkened area, fed by many of the numerous waterfalls and waterways. Yet they could not see where the river ended—it appeared to run on forever.

They made a bridge over the river using white bones and ventured further into the left side of the gigantic snow valley cavern over the course of many days—Sans’ teleportation being most helpful to return them to places they had left off, saving them the need to camp overnight or walk endlessly for hours to reach where they’d already been. Far from the cavern and their shelter, the valley’s left edge was a jagged cliff line, below which lay yet another valley—just as snowy, and just as vast. Sans gulped as he looked over the sheer, miles-high drop, refusing to let Papyrus get too near.

What the snowy valley lacked in its openness, the darkened area made up for in its labyrinthian pathways, countless bodies of water, and mysterious atmosphere. While the two skeletons preferred the chilly winds of the valley to the heavy, thick humidity of the darkened area, the watery location made for extremely interesting exploring.

Anytime they came to the darkened area, Sans made sure to fill up his bag with lucent gems to sell to the jeweler and mouseshroom nightlights, keeping a few for him and his brother and donating the rest to the charity workers managing food collection for the hungry. The monsters’ eyes lit up as much as the mushrooms did when they saw Sans empty his stuffed haversack of mushrooms into their donation crates the first time.

Aside from the gems and mushrooms, Sans also regularly collected reeds. He had started weaving coiled baskets during his spare time now that he had sturdy, thick thread and a tapestry needle. The baskets helped organize the pantry shelf better, and Papyrus adored the one Sans made special for him to store his tiny white bones when he wasn’t playing with them.

In addition to the reeds, they came across some parts of the darkened area that had cattails, which made Sans extremely happy, and amused Papyrus to no end.

“Wata sausage!” he had cried out gleefully when they discovered them.

Sans couldn’t help but grin at the mention of their nickname, recalling how he and his brother used to play with the cattails his mother would bring home from the lake. The brown flowers looked just like the pea sausages their mother would cook up, but tasted much more...fluffy.

Sans collected as many of the cattails as he could, not just for how great the stalks tasted in their salad, but he was collecting the brown flowers for their fluff. He had made a basket to store them in, and couldn’t wait until he had enough to make a proper set of pillows for him and his brother to sleep on, instead of the filled-up haversack they had been using for months. It would take a lot of cattails, but the darkened area was proving to provide a steady supply.

On training days, Sans would transport them to the valley corner, and they would continue improving their bone magic.

Papyrus had gotten much better with his ground attacks, and was rapidly refining his ability to create useful structures with his white bones, like platforms and stairs on the rocky walls, and beds of bones, which were almost to the point of all the bones coming up to the same height.

Sans had been trying to perfect his attack power—he was far better at rapid-fire attacks than a single strong attack. He was also attempting to learn free-hand blue bones, but, as always, it wasn’t easy for him to learn since no one was able to tell him _how_. However, as part of his training, he was learning to be more patient with himself, and to celebrate his successes instead of focusing on his failures, much to the joy of Papyrus.

Both skeletons also strove to become more disciplined in their training—making set amounts of targets to hit, repeating certain attack exercises over and over, and, especially for Sans, making sure that calm and focus replaced any anger or frustration. Anytime he felt the rage or aggravation rising up within him, he stopped what he was doing and took ten deep breaths, counting each one out loud—something his parents made him do when he had tantrums when he was younger—and he found that his damaging emotions left him with each exhale.

Once a week, Sans would go to the purple cavern to get food and supplies. He would teleport to the place where the masonry work area and the first brick building of the row met, since the pathway was always vacant.

He would first wind his way through the roads to reach the domed building on the opposite side of the city, which was the city’s community center. Monsters came not only to seek help with food, clothing, or items, but also to volunteer and donate. Job postings were available for anyone looking for work, such as in the many work areas throughout the city, services needed within the king and queen’s multiple projects to strengthen the city and morale, and even enlistment opportunities in the Royal Guard, as most of the soldiers had been lost in the human’s final push.

Sans would bring their inedible scraps to place in the community compost bin to be used for the crops that grew within the cavern. The bin was a small, four-wheeled, wooden cart parked just outside the domed building. It was lined with a thick, waterproof tarp, and—Sans was told—would take the compost to the large compost pile elsewhere in the city.

Sans was more than happy to give their food scraps to a good cause. He had been burying his food waste in a hole he had dug in the snow a few paces from their shelter—covered with bones and snow—since their first day. He emptied the frozen contents into the empty paper bags—which he had saved after finishing their granola and oats—and sealed the hole up for good. He then kept a small paper bag in the pantry corner on a little row of bones—to keep off the snow—next to the wood pile for banana peels, nut shells, apple cores, rotting reed stalks, and other inedible food and plant scraps.

He would then go inside the domed building, unloading his haversack filled with mouseshroom nightlights in the food donation crates as the charity workers thanked him profusely for his weekly kindness. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t much, considering the thousands of monsters who had been displaced by the war, many of whom were orphaned, injured, and without a way to support themselves. But he also knew that he was contributing food to those who might have gone without, recalling his and his brother’s joy when they discovered the mushrooms after so many nights of painful hunger.

After dropping off his donations, he would shoulder his emptied haversack and make his way to the market, visiting the jeweler first. He sold the gems he had found that week to the extremely grateful sapphire monster, and as she counted out his gold, he smiled as he saw necklaces, rings, fibulae, and more fitted with the cut-down lucent gems, glowing on their display racks throughout the shop.

Once he left the jeweler, Sans would do his shopping. He wouldn’t purchase nearly as much as he had the first time he came, needing only to replenish their pantry of items they were low on or out of. In addition to that, he would always get a bottle of milk, some cheese, loaves of bread, baby spinach, and bananas, as he only purchased enough of these to last a week so that they didn’t go bad or stale.

He rarely found a need to visit the non-food shops, as he had gotten most of what he needed on his first visit. He also wanted to limit the number of items they owned to the absolutely necessary in case they ever had to flee the shelter. Usually these market trips were dedicated for food shopping.

However, every week he ended his trip by visiting Ashen’s shop. He always made a point to purchase something from her, since she had mentioned that she used the gold to help others, and Sans thought that was an extremely kind thing to do. But mostly, he came to say hello and spend time with her. They chatted about their week, Ashen would show Sans her current knitting project, and Sans would tell her about his own crafting projects. On his third week in the cavern, he had given her a small reed basket that he had made for her.

“It’s for your knitting,” he said, shyly. “To store your yarn, needles, and stuff.”

She hugged him, giving a shudder that ruffled her grey feathers. “Thank you, Sans! I love it! That was so sweet of you to make this for me!”

She admired the basket the little skeleton had made for her. It was carefully woven, with strong, white thread stitching the coils of reeds together, and on both sides, where the braided handle met the basket, was a small yellow ribbon bow—he had found the ribbon while foraging on the torch-lit trail near the cavern ages ago—with a miniscule white bone tucked firmly in the center knot.

“Oh, my,” she gasped. “These bows are _beautiful_.... And yellow is my favorite color, too.”

“I thought so,” Sans grinned. “You were wearing a yellow dress the first day we met, and your knitting needles are yellow. So I used a yellow ribbon.”

Ashen hugged Sans once again, hiding her tears from him. She couldn’t bear to tell him that the reason she loved yellow so much was because it reminded her of her precious children’s feathers. She wiped her eyes on her wings without him noticing.

“Thank you for the thoughtful gift,” she said, smiling warmly at him with dried eyes.

“You’re welcome,” he grinned happily.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as she brought her new basket around the corner to put her knitting in. “I saw the toymaker who makes the teddy bears, and told him about how one of my customers was able to replace a teddy bear lost in the evacuation for his little brother—I didn’t mention your name or anything—and he was so happy! He made them on the surface for decades—that’s probably how your brother got his first bear—and wanted to keep making them down here to cheer children up. He was very pleased to hear that you were able to replace your brother’s lost teddy.”

“Aw, that’s great,” Sans smiled. “Yeah, I told my brother his bear was in here looking for him and he was _so happy_! He’s slept with him every night since.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Ashen sighed happily as she shuddered, her feathers rippling. “Poor little thing, has his teddy back.”

Sans purchased a blue dish towel that day to use instead of the scraps of rough cloth he had been using, and Ashen thanked him again for her beautiful basket.

Although Sans kept his hood up and his trips to the cavern brief, he never stopped looking for his father in the crowds. There were multiple times he thought he spotted him, but, every time, it turned out to be some other monster. Sans always brought a small blue bone, etched with his and his brother’s names on it, and when he visited the purple cavern, he would leave a bone down an empty alleyway for someone to find, hoping beyond hope that it would make it back to their father.

Sans would return home, spend the remainder of the day working on baskets or another craft project, then gave math, reading, and writing lessons to Papyrus before they started preparing dinner. After a delicious meal, Papyrus would have his lesson test, then the two brothers would play together until bedtime. Papyrus would snuggle up with Teddy as Sans told bedtime stories until the little skeleton started nodding off, then they settled down, tucked themselves in, and went to sleep.

The days turned to weeks quickly for the little skeletons—days filled with good food, adventure, learning, laughter, and productiveness. But most of all, the days were filled with normalcy. Peaceful, comforting normalcy.

“Ooh,” Sans breathed as they rounded the corner of yet another winding path through the darkened area. “There’s a _lot_ of cattails here.”

“Ooh,” Papyrus chimed. “Glowey stones!”

The little area was at the base of a few small waterfalls. The cascades fed a large pool of water that split off into four waterways flowing in different directions. One of the waterways from the pool ran along their left, flowing back the way they had just come.

Two of the waterways flowed from the large pool straight towards the edge on their right, cascading off to form two more waterfalls. Sans chanced a peek over the side and gulped as he looked into the black void. He pulled back, keeping Papyrus far away from the edge. The two waterways cut through the path, just narrow enough for the two skeletons to clear in a running jump.

The last waterway ran forward around a snaking path out of their sight, probably feeding yet another body of water. Sans felt as though every body of water was somehow connected, the same water flowing through every portion of the darkened area. It was mesmerizing.

On either end, where the waterways left the area and the currents were much calmer, the cattails grew in clusters. Speckled on the walls and floor were blue and pink gems, their lights reflecting in the waters like shimmering splinters, and were the area’s only source of illumination.

“Pap, I’m going to go over there to get those cattails,” Sans said, gesturing to the clusters near where they entered. “Want to start collecting those gems? If your bag fills up before I’m done, just pile them up for me, and I’ll put them in my bag later.”

“Okay!” Papyrus smiled, happy to help. He had many gems to play with at home that he, personally and proudly, had found on their first few trips to the darkened area. He had plenty, so he started giving the ones he gathered to Sans to sell to the jeweler, which Sans thought was extremely generous of him to do. Papyrus was ecstatic to be able to help his brother get more food and supplies for them both, so he treasured being able to contribute.

Sans took a running leap back over the waterway and headed over to the start of the cattail clusters. Papyrus remained in the portion of the path sandwiched between the two waterways, which was littered with gems.

Sans took off his haversack, jacket, and shoes, then rolled up his pant legs and dipped his foot in. A chill went up his spine as he squeaked at the coldness of the water on his foot. He took a couple steps in the soft mud, and then there was nothing under his foot. He went from ankle-deep water to sinking to the bottom, chest-deep in water, in the course of a single step. He gasped sharply from the jolt of the sudden drop and the icy cold water chilling him to the bone. The mud was extremely squishy and slippery, and his light, skeletal body wanted to float. He had to dig his feet into the mud to keep himself anchored and walking straight.

“P-Pap,” he stammered, teeth chattering. “St-stay away fr-from th-the water. I-it’s too deep.”

“Okay,” his brother answered, crouched over a smattering of glowing gems, stuffing them into his little bag.

Sans waded over to the cattails and created a sharp blue bone knife. He took a deep breath and plunged down underwater, cutting the cattails off at the base of their shoots. He cut and gathered as many as he could until he needed air, then broke the surface to catch his breath and check on his brother. Then he dipped back down, cutting and gathering more.

Papyrus was having a great deal of fun finding gems. His bag was already filled up, and he had started a small pile at the edge of the path near the large pool. He laid his stuffed bag on the ground next to the pile so it didn’t weigh him down as he collected more. He stooped to pick up gems, tucking them in the crook of his arm. When he had too many in his arms to pick up more, he brought the armload over to the pile and carefully placed them down.

As he did this a fourth time, one of the pink gems fell out of his arms, bounced on the ground, and splashed into the large pool. Papyrus whimpered, unloaded his armful on the growing pile of gems, and crept to the water’s edge. He saw the gem, now stuck firmly in the soft bank mud under the water’s surface. The rippling currents made the gem’s location wave and wobble as its light shone up through the mud and water.

Papyrus tried bending over from where he stood on the edge, but the gem was too far. He carefully dipped his foot into the water bank, his shoe sinking into the gooey mud. He bent over, grunting as he struggled to reach the gem that was just out of reach. One more step should do it....

Sans broke the surface, gasping and panting for breath as he clutched the knife and bundle of cattails. He wiped the water from his eyes, blinked, and checked on his brother—watching him step into the pool with its stronger currents. He gasped sharply.

_“Pap!”_ Sans yelled out fearfully. “Get away from the water’s edge! It’s too dangerous!”

Papyrus was bent over as far as he could, his fingers underwater, tickling the edge of the gem trapped in the mud, when he heard his brother shout. It startled him, and the mud beneath his foot gave way, causing him to lose his balance. He fell forward into the water and the current took him down the waterway leading to the edge of the area. He flailed wildly and cried out, the water too deep for his feet to reach the bottom as the current carried his extremely light, skeletal body towards the top of the waterfall.

Sans was in a panic. He dropped everything and hurried to get back on land, but the current kept trying to sweep him in the opposite direction when he pulled his feet out of the mud with each step. Why had he taken everything off him that would have weighed him down?!

Once he pulled himself up out of the water and onto the path, he stumbled with the water-to-land gravity difference as he cried out to his brother shrilly.

_“Pap! Hang on!”_

Papyrus was crying and choking as his head dipped in an out of the water’s surface, his arms waving madly in his panic. He was inches from the waterfall’s top, and Sans was feet away, scrambling as fast as he could in his heavy, drenched clothing. In the water, he felt like a feather being swept away—now he felt like his body weighed a thousand pounds.

Sans watched in horror as his brother was sent to the edge of the waterfall and thrust out over the cascade, just as he himself reached the waterfall, seconds too late.

_“No!!!”_

Sans thrust his head over the edge and raised his left hand out to Papyrus. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth as he half-clutched his fingers, grasping at something invisible. As Papyrus fell in midair, screaming in terror, his soul began to glow dark blue. He had plummeted down the waterfall, but he was now slowing, completely unaware in his utter fright.

Sans saw the blue glow and strained every bone in his body to concentrate on pulling his brother up. Papyrus continued falling, his speed continuing to decrease. Sans struggled to get him to rise, not even sure what he was doing with magic he had never been able to cast. Papyrus decelerated, still flailing, coughing, and crying, absolutely terrified.

Sans clenched his hand “around” his brother’s soul so tightly it hurt, and he felt pain run up his arm to his shoulder, which had been taut and strained as he tried desperately to pull his brother up. It was hard to see Papyrus now as the dimness below engulfed him, but Sans could still see his brother’s glowing blue soul.

_“C’mon,”_ Sans grunted through teeth clenched so hard they were near shattering. _“C’mon!!!”_

Papyrus’ soul flickered from blue to white momentarily, then shone completely white as he fell, no longer in the grasp of Sans’ magic.

_“No!!!”_ Sans cried out at the top of his lungs as he helplessly watched his brother fall, swallowed by the darkness of the void. _“Papyrus!!!”_

The sound of cascading waters and sweeping currents were all that answered the horror-stricken skeleton, kneeling over the edge that had taken his brother.


	28. Chapter 28

Sans was in an absolute panic.

He had to use every ounce of sense within him to resist the urge to dive over the waterfall after Papyrus. He pulled himself back from the edge, shaking violently and hyperventilating. Tears fell from his eyes like the waters down the falls as he paced back and forth, trying to bring his reeling mind back so he could think.

He didn’t want to believe that Papyrus was gone. But he’d seen him disappear into the darkness.

He couldn’t believe his brother was gone. It was all his fault.

Sans came to a sudden halt. He gripped his skull, shut his eyes tight, doubled over, and screamed in anguish from the very bottom of his soul until his lungs were empty of all air.

He stood back up, his throat throbbing, his vision blurry, gasping for breath, and rushed to the edge.

_No. He’s not gone. He’s not dead. He can’t be._

He staggered to the very edge, tears falling from his face into the void below. Then he wiped his tears and narrowed his eyes as he clenched his teeth, throwing any thought that his brother was dead into the wind. He raised his left hand and made a series of twelve bone platforms down the cliff face near the waterfall, each a few feet below the other and sat down on the top one.

_I’m coming, Papyrus. I’m going to find you. Just hang on. Please hang on._

A sob escaped his torn throat. He made the platform he was sitting on disappear, causing him to fall down to the next one with a thump. He made the next one disappear, and fell to the one below that. He kept descending like this, the only way he could think of other than jumping blindly as his heart so desperately wanted him to do.

As he reached the end of the platforms, he created a dozen more. His body was hurting from landing on the bones after each fall, but he didn’t care. He descended rapidly, his platform creation and removal becoming so automatic, he barely needed to concentrate.

Eventually he had gone down the cliff so far that he, too, was enveloped in darkness. He created a blue bone and tossed it down, watching it fall into the void until it suddenly disappeared.

He kept going.

Another dozen platforms made, another dozen removed. He created and dropped another blue bone, watching it plummet. This time, the bone illuminated a body of water under it before splashing in, sinking into the depths and out of sight.

_It’s not bottomless!_ Sans gasped, the first spark of hope igniting in his soul.

He removed the remaining platforms, one by one, falling onto each subsequent one, then let himself freefall after he made the last platform disappear. He fell through the darkness a short distance before suddenly hitting the surface of the water, submerging in the watery void. He opened his eyes, but it was as if they were closed, the darkness was so total.

He swam to the top, breaking through the surface, gasping and coughing. He bobbed in the water, utterly exhausted from his panic. He created another blue bone under water and raised it up above his head, looking around.

It was difficult to see anything in the pitch-dark, but the blue-white light reflected off the water, allowing him to see shadows in the bone’s light. The body of water he was treading was large, but he couldn’t see where the edges were in the darkness. There were formations all around, like tiny islands, rising up around the area.

He swam, one-armed, towards one of the formations, holding up the bone with his other hand as he cried out.

“ _Papyrus! Papyrus!!!”_

His voice was drowned out by the cacophonous waterfalls surrounding the area and the pounding in his head from his anxiety.

Sans pulled himself out of the water, collapsing on the ground from overexertion. He was shivering uncontrollably from the chill and his increasing panic, the blue bone’s light shaking as it illuminated the island. He struggled to stand, his legs and knees shaking terribly.

The land wasn’t made of soil or mud, but of _things._ Broken wooden items, useless weapons, soggy fabrics, and various, rotting substances that Sans couldn’t identify, all piled up in the huge mound he was standing on. He covered his nose from the horrific stench as his eyes darted around, looking for his brother.

When he didn’t find him on the island, he flung the blue bone over to the next island and jumped into the water, swimming frantically to it. The second island was the same as the first—a mound of broken, decaying refuse. Once again, he searched the small mound for Papyrus, then tossed the blue bone to the next island with a strained grunt.

When the bone landed, Sans gasped. In the blue-white light was his little brother’s body, his head and chest on the bank of the mound, his pelvis and legs bobbing in the waters.

_“Pap!!!”_

Sans dove into the water and swam urgently to the mound, the rush of determination shoving aside his weariness. He pulled himself out of the water, a sob tearing from his chest as he looked at his brother, motionless on his stomach, his head at an awkward angle, with the tail of his drenched red scarf plastered to his back.

Sans carefully turned him onto his back and pulled him up so that he was no longer in the waters that had stolen him. He fell to his knees and put his ear to his brother’s mouth. He felt nothing against the side of his skull, a sickening feeling growing in his stomach.

Immediately, Sans sat on the ground with his legs out straight and pulled his brother up against him as he bent both knees slightly, digging his bare heels into the debris. He laid Papyrus down over his legs so that his ribcage was against his knees, his head facing downward, and started pounding his spine where it met his ribcage in short, hard, upward thumps with his hands, fingers interlaced.

“C’mon, Pap,” he sobbed, trying to keep his panic down while he performed the maneuver his parents had taught him—lessons for an emergency, such as this.

Papyrus’ soaked body moved only when struck, not responding, as the terror gripped Sans’ soul. Still, he continued, straining to count in between movements.

After several moments of striking his upper back, water trickled out of the little skeleton’s jaws, then he started coughing up water. Sans cried tears of joy as he continued thumping his brother’s back until the coughs were dry.

“That’s it,” Sans coaxed, tears flowing down his face. “Get it up. Get it all up....”

Papyrus coughed and gasped for air, then began crying loudly. Sans lowered his knees as he turned his brother over, pulling him up to embrace him, rocking him gently and gratefully.

“I’m here, Papyrus,” he wept into his brother’s shoulder as his brother cried uncontrollably. “It’s ok. You’re ok. You’re ok now.”

Papyrus’ wailing didn’t cease, which concerned Sans. He raised his knees up tight so he could lean his brother against them.

“Pap, what’s wrong?” Sans asked, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

_“Hurts....”_ his brother sobbed, his eyes shut tightly. His face was contorted in agony.

Sans’ eyes searched for any visible injuries, but the little skeleton’s clothes covered most of his bones.

“Where, Pap?” Sans asked urgently. “Where does it hurt?”

_“It hurts!”_ His cry was more high-pitched, filled with pain.

Sans pulled up his brother’s shirt carefully, and winced at what he saw. One of his ribs had broken off and was missing, while another was cracked. The lower part of his vertebrae, just above his pelvis, was slightly fractured.

He gently pulled the scarf around his neck loose, which caused Papyrus to emit a bloodcurdling scream, making Sans flinch in sympathy. He tugged cautiously at the collar of his brother’s shirt and saw that his collarbone was broken, and—most alarmingly—two of his cervical vertebrae were badly fractured.

_“Oh, Pap...,”_ he breathed concernedly.

He checked his brother’s arms and legs, which were unscathed. Papyrus was still crying out in pain, breaking Sans’ heart.

“It’s all right,” he said, stroking the side of his brother’s head soothingly. “As soon as you eat, you’ll feel much better. Let’s get back up there and out of this place. Just hold on.”

He turned his brother so that he could cradle him in his arms as Papyrus screamed in pain with the movement. Sans shushed him gently, his brother unable to hear him through his tortured screams, as he carefully rose to his feet. He held Papyrus tightly, shut his eyes, and took a step.

Nothing happened.

Sans opened his eyes, his breath caught in his throat in panic.

_Why didn’t it work...?!_

He closed his eyes again, pictured the pathway above, begging to be up there to the food in his bag, and took a step.

They remained on the mound.

“No,” Sans whimpered in fear. “No, no, _no_....”

He tried a third time, and, still, they were on the mound in the middle of nowhere.

Sans felt the panic grip his soul as his brother’s painful cries became more and more shrill. He _had_ to get back up on that path. He _had_ to get food into his brother urgently.

_Maybe I need to be closer.... Maybe I’m too far down here.... It’s a long way down here from up there...._

He looked over at the two islands he had searched before finding his brother. He figured that if he got to that first mound, he might be in better range. But he couldn’t swim, not with his brother so terribly injured. He had to be careful—one wrong move, and his brother’s fractured neck would snap, killing him. If he had thumped his brother’s back just slightly harder—the thought made him shudder horribly.

Sans knew he needed to make a bridge, so he cautiously raised his left hand as his arm helped bear the weight of his brother. But nothing happened.

_“What?!”_ Sans breathed in shock.

He tried again—no white bones appeared.

Then the realization hit him like a slap across the face. The exhaustion he was suffering wasn’t from the ordeal. Between teleporting to the darkened area, trying to use the blue soul magic, creating and removing dozens of bone platforms, and making multiple blue bones, he had used up all his magic.

He went for his pocket to pull out the bag of dried fruit to replenish his magic so he could transport his brother to safety. His hand slipped into air as he gasped, then groaned in anguish—his jacket was still up on the pathway.

Sans stood on the mound, frozen with fear and helplessness—no magic, his critically injured brother screaming in pain in his arms, trapped in the watery darkness.

It took Sans a few moments to regain his thoughts.

Getting food into his brother was the highest priority right now. With great care, he laid his wailing brother back on the mound, rolling up the tail of his soaked scarf to pillow his head. His brother had not stopped crying, urging Sans to action quickly. Picking up the blue bone for light, he frantically searched around the mound for any sort of soil that might have mouseshroom nightlights growing in it. When he found none, he looked back at Papyrus, who was still weeping pitifully, before sticking the blue bone between his teeth and diving back into the water to search the next island.

Grasping onto the loose debris, Sans achingly pulled himself out of the water, finding another mound of discarded and rotting items. He stumbled, his body begging him to rest after depleting himself of magical and physical energy, but he refused. He held up the bone and searched the ground, his eyes scanning for _anything_ edible.

“Please...,” he begged whatever forces were listening. “Please, give me _something....”_

The mound had nothing to offer, so he slipped into the water and headed to the next island, hoping to find actual ground instead of decaying refuse. Pulling himself up and out, he found yet another pile of rubbish. His soul fluttered in his chest momentarily when he saw a broken crate, filled with rotting apples.

“Just one, please,” he whispered, a whine tinging his voice, as he scrambled to get to it. “ _Just one....”_

He picked up the crate and upended it, the rotten apples landing on the mound in a squelching, disgusting heap. He desperately ran his hands through the decayed fruit, his fingers searching for the hardness of a still-edible morsel. The entire crate’s worth was nothing but a liquified, reeking goop. Sans slammed his fists into the putrefied mess in dismayed frustration. A sob escaped his throat as panic once again clutched at him.

He picked the bone back up in his filth-covered hand, his eyes darting as they continued scanning the ground. His legs buckled, and he fell to the trash-covered ground on his hands and knees. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer like this, but he still pushed forward.

Sans returned to the water to swim to the next mound, his limbs numb in the water from cold and exhaustion. Eventually, he reached it and searched once more, found nothing, and swam to the next, repeating the motions mound after mound.

He grasped at the loose bank of yet another island of refuse, gasping and choking for air. His arms ached viciously, and his legs gave him great difficulty standing as they grew weaker. He stumbled through the debris, falling multiple times, as tears of frustration and fear for his brother blurred his already strained vision.

Then he saw it.

He had looked up briefly and thought the darkness was playing tricks on his eyes, but, squinting, he realized that there were a few faint pinpricks of light coming from an island near the one he stood on. It was hard to tell, but it sure looked like blue-white light to his tired eyes.

“Oh please...!” he rasped weakly. “Please be them....!”

Sans stuck the bone back in his teeth and dove into the water, the hope renewing his energy slightly. He swam swiftly at first, then slowed as his exhaustion weighed his limbs down. The currents pushing from the base of the waterfall right next to the mound tried to sweep his light body away, making it all the more difficult for him to reach it. He coughed as water splashed into his mouth between the bone, his desperation tearing at his soul.

At last, he arrived at the mound, coughing out water he had choked down, gasping for air as he crawled over to the flickering source of light along the bank. He ripped away pieces of wood, sodden ropes, and decayed reeds and gave a guttural sigh of joy.

Numerous rotting mouseshroom nightlights had been washed up on the mound, having found their way down the waterfall that fed the mound with its discarded cargo. Many of them were lit, their blue-white glow weak and flickering, and all of them were in a state of decay. However, much of the mushrooms were still edible around the rotting parts.

Looking around for something to carry the mushrooms in, Sans found nothing. Thinking quickly, he pulled off his soaking shirt, shivering uncontrollably with the cold as his bones from the pelvis up were exposed to the light breeze. With trembling, shaky hands, he frantically filled his shirt like a bag with as many mushrooms as could fit. He rolled the hem of his shirt to seal it, then took a nearby rope and wound it around the bundle, tying it firmly so the shirt wouldn’t open. He slung it over his back, tying the sleeves around his neck into a knot. Then he picked up the blue bone, shoved it back between his teeth, and dove into the water.

The currents were now rapidly pushing him in his favor, back towards the island on which his brother lay. Sans hoped he wasn’t too late, that his brother hadn’t shifted, causing his neck to—

Papyrus’ painful cries reached Sans’ ears as he neared the mound. Sans whimpered through his teeth and the bone, struggling to reach his injured brother with the life-saving mushrooms on his back.

Sans washed up on the bank of the mound, his body shivering violently and unwilling to move. With all the strength he could summon, he crawled over to his wailing brother and collapsed by his head, weakly pulling the knotted shirt sleeves over his own head. He pulled the bundle up to him and fumbled to untie the rope with numb fingers. The rope fell free and he tore at it to loosen, shoving his hand into the bottom of his shirt to pull out a mushroom. He tore off an edible piece and held it to his brother’s open, crying mouth.

Feeling the food at his teeth, Papyrus whimpered as he instinctually opened his mouth wider for it. Sans dropped it in, and the little skeleton barely chewed it before swallowing it with a whimper as Sans broke off another bit. Papyrus opened his mouth for more, and Sans gave him the next piece, laying his own head down on his other arm to rest. With each swallow, Papyrus’ whimpering and moaning decreased, but Sans refused to slow his feeding.

Soon, Papyrus was able to open his eyes, his awareness returning to him as the cloud of agony dissipated from his mind.

“...Sas...?” His voice was a weak croak.

“Sh-shh, P-Pap...,” Sans stammered, his teeth chattering terribly. “K-keep eat-ting....”

Sans was now shivering violently. Skeletons couldn’t handle the chill from wetness, the moisture seeping deep into their bones. Their bodies could bear the dry, frigid temperatures of the winter for long durations, but the combination of saturation in cold water and exposure in the air quickly chilled them to the bone. He knew he needed to get dried off and warm, but everything around him was waterlogged and soaking. He gritted his chattering teeth, ignoring his own discomfort for the sake of his brother’s serious injuries.

After five mushrooms, Papyrus tried to sit up, but groaned, clutching his neck.

“N-no...!” Sans begged, reaching up weakly to stop him. “D-don’t t-touch your ne—”

A green glow shone under the little skeleton’s hands. Sans watched wide eyed, mouth hung open as his brother’s clavicle and cervical vertebrae glowed in the green light, reforming before his eyes. Soon, the bones had reformed, as if nothing had happened to them. Papyrus, still sniffling and whimpering, put his hands over his lower chest. The green glow lit up his hands and ribcage under his shirt, healing his broken ribs. He then moved his hands down—leaning up slightly—to reach his lower vertebrae, healing the fractures.

_This must be how he healed me,_ Sans thought as he watched in shock.

Having healed his major injuries, Papyrus laid back, hiccoughing tearfully from his ordeal.

Sans was still on his stomach, trembling violently as he offered his brother more of the mushroom, but Papyrus had had his fill and turned his closed jaws away from it. Sans let his hand drop weakly, and Papyrus turned his head back to face him.

“S-Sas okay...?” he asked between dry sobs.

“J-just t-tired,” his brother answered, teeth chattering loudly. “And c-c-cold. S-so c-c-old.”

Papyrus groaned painfully as he rolled over, looking at his brother through the light of the blue bone. His eyebrows raised in worry.

“Where Sas’ shirt?”

Sans weakly lifted an empty sleeve of the shirt, still filled with rotting mushrooms.

Papyrus winced as he moved closer to his trembling brother, putting his arm around Sans in an effort to keep him warm. His damp clothes made Sans shiver even more, but Sans didn’t care. He was too relieved that his brother was out of danger.

“W-we’ve g-got to g-get b-back,” Sans stammered, shaking uncontrollably. “B-but m-my m-m-magic is g-gone. I c-can’t make pl-platforms or t-take us th-there.”

“Pa do it....”

The tiny whisper made Sans lift his head weakly. “Wh-what...?”

Papyrus tilted his head and opened his eyes slightly to look at his brother. Sans could tell he was still weak from his injuries, even though they had healed.

“Pa make bones....”

Sans made a small sound of protest, but realized that it would be their only chance. They couldn’t wait for his magic to naturally replenish.

Sans looked at the rotting mushrooms spilling out of his shirt next to his head.

“P-Pap...,” he croaked. “C-can y-you eat m-more?”

Papyrus gave a weak shake of his head. “No, Sas.... Pa too full....”

Sans hesitated, unwilling to take food that should be going to heal his brother. But, deep down, he knew that if they were going to make the massive climb back up, he needed his strength.

He pulled out a mushroom and tore off an edible portion with shaky fingers, shoving it in his mouth. He kept eating, feeling his strength returning and his pain fade away slowly. After he had consumed the last of the mushrooms, he sat up, still woozy from the weakness of his magic depletion, his brother watching him through half-shut lids as he lay on his side.

Sans shook out his soaked shirt of mushroom remains and put it back on with a struggle, as the wet cloth made it difficult. He gasped sharply as the frigid fabric clung against his spine and ribcage, a loud, deep shudder forcing its way out of his lungs.

He looked over at the sheer cliff wall from where they had come, unable to see the top from their depth. There were so many waterfalls that he wasn’t sure which one Papyrus had fallen down. Recalling that he had checked a few of the islands in front of them before finding his brother, and seeing a pair of waterfalls close together like the two waterways that cut through the path near the other islands, he judged the best location for them to ascend.

Sans sighed worriedly, giving a chilled shudder. “Th-this is g-going to b-be rough, P-Pap....”

A pang of guilt cut through him, making him shut his eyes tightly and clench his teeth. If he had just eaten some dried fruit after transporting, or remembered to take some with him before going over the cliff after his brother, _none_ of this would be happening. His brother had been suffering longer than he should have because he was too stupid to make sure his magic was in good supply. It was all his fault, if only he had just—

“Sas okay...?”

Sans opened his eyes, his breath caught in his throat as his brother’s voice startled him. He looked down at Papyrus. His brother’s eyes were wide with concern for him, his frowning face sad.

Sans put on a grin and winked at his brother. “Y-yeah, I’m f-fine. J-just pr-preparing myself f-for th-the climb. Y-you feel w-well enough t-to go?”

Papyrus nodded from where he still lay on his side. “Pa wanna go home....”

“M-me t-too,” Sans answered, getting up on his feet, his body shaking terribly from the cold and magical weakness. “L-let’s go.”

He carefully picked up his brother, cradling him in his shivering arms.

“Y-you ok?” he checked.

“Yeah,” Papyrus answered, nodding. Sans noticed he looked extremely tired.

“Ok,” he whispered through chattering teeth. “W-we need a br-bridge here to th-that island.”

Papyrus turned his head to look down at the mound they were on and the one near it. He raised his right hand and four bones shot from the bank of the mound until it reached the other side, inches above the water.

“Gr-great job, P-Pap,” Sans grinned.

Sans carried his brother over the bone bridge, the currents splashing at his bare feet. The bridge was slick from the water, and the smoothness of his bony feet on the bones of the bridge made for a treacherous walk. Eventually, he made it to the other side, finally releasing the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Papyrus raised his hand to make the bones disappear, when Sans stopped him.

“W-wait, d-don’t,” he urged. “We’ve g-got a l-long, _long_ way t-to climb. Y-you n-n-need to c-conserve your m-magic. W-we’ll take c-care of th-these another d-day.”

Papyrus looked up at him and nodded.

Sans carried him across the mound, slipping and stumbling on the refuse under his feet that he could not see with his brother blocking his view. Papyrus whimpered as he was jostled, afraid of falling to the ground. Sans gave him a reassuring squeeze as he, himself, felt the dread of knowing they had an extremely long way to go before they were safe.


	29. Chapter 29

The putrid stench hung heavily in the air like a damp fog, a miasma of decaying matter and waste-infused water. The droning clapping and splashing of the waterfalls casting their streams into a plummeting crash at their bases echoed against the walls too dark to see. The pitch darkness, void of the bioluminescence and natural illumination that was so abundant high above, engulfed the reservoir of refuse, as if trying to conceal its very existence. A single speck of light glinted in the gloom, flickering as it shook like a tiny star in the velvety night sky.

Sans stood on top of a shattered barrel on the bank of the mound closest to the set of waterfalls he believed stemmed from where they had been before his brother was swept from him. The blue bone shook in his grasp, held tight in his hand as he supported Papyrus in both his arms. Sans was exhausted, violently shivering from the cold, and panting through chattering teeth.

He glanced down at Papyrus, his head leaning against his lower left shoulder and chest. His eyes were closed, wanting nothing more than to sleep the remnants of his pain away. Sans furrowed his brow sadly, knowing that, although his bones had mended, Papyrus still needed to recover from his injuries with rest, food, and time. For now, however, his little brother needed to stay awake to cast the magic that would get them out of this horrendous place.

“P-P-Pap,” Sans whispered through chattering teeth. “W-we n-need a r-really long br-bridge, fr-from here t-to that s-side of the w-w-waterfall, on th-the w-wall.”

He indicated with the blue bone as Papyrus watched through half-closed eyes. Then, without a word, the little skeleton raised his right hand.

Four bones sprang from in front of them at the bank of the mound, shooting over the ever-running waters, until they buried themselves into the wall, several feet away from the churning base of the waterfall he had fallen from.

Sans looked at the bridge with amazement. His brother had rapidly improved with his bone magic, and he was extremely grateful that they had spent so much time practicing.

“G-good job, P-Pap,” Sans murmured as encouragingly as he could muster, nuzzling into his brother’s skull with his trembling chin.

He looked at the long stretch of bones, watching the waters lap against it, and felt his dizziness double just _thinking_ about crossing it. He knew that he wouldn’t make it without falling over, so he carefully lowered himself to sit, keeping his brother tight in his grasp, falling the last few inches onto his rear with a painful bump. As he grunted in pain, Papyrus looked up at him, worriedly.

“S-s’ok, P-Pap,” Sans grinned feebly. “J-just b-bumped my b-butt.”

Papyrus didn’t seem thoroughly convinced, yet his weariness forced his eyes back shut.

Sans made sure he was centered on the narrow bridge, then, carefully holding Papyrus against him with his right arm, used his left hand to pull himself along the bridge on his rear, pushing with his bare heels against the bones.

He scooted backwards laboriously, inch by inch, blindly propelling himself up the bridge as the waters soaked his bottom. He wobbled a few times, shaking his head to regain his balance, as the darkness, noise, and his condition were extremely disorientating.

Eventually he reached the rocky wall of the sheer cliff face. He sighed deeply, knowing that they were one step closer to getting out, but the most difficult part was now ahead of them.

“P-Pap,” Sans stammered, almost needing to shout to be heard over the waterfall right next to them. “W-we n-need to cl-climb this w-wall.”

Papyrus opened his eyes halfway, looked up the cliff face that they were unable to see the top of, and turned his eyes to his brother. There was something in the weakened, apathetic look that Papyrus gave him that gave Sans the impression his brother was telling him “there is no way I can do that”.

“Y-you c-can do it, P-Pap,” Sans whispered, a hint of urgency in his voice. “I-it looks f-farther th-than it is. L-little by l-little, you c-can do it.”

Sans swayed where he sat, his eyes threatening to close. He shook his head again to snap himself out of it. He couldn’t rest yet.

Papyrus whimpered with concern for his brother. He knew something was wrong with Sans, which urged him to try. He looked back at the wall, considering it for a moment, then raised his right hand.

White bones shot from the wall in an upward slant, starting next to the bone bridge, and ending with a flat platform of several bones for a stopping point.

Sans gave his brother a gentle squeeze. “Th-that’s gr-great!”

He thought about the best way to ascend the steep bone stairway, shutting his eyes momentarily as his mind started to cloud over in a heavy fog.

Papyrus gasped softly as he watched his brother’s head droop, then Sans started to roll to the side as he was still clutched to his chest. They were going to topple off into the water.

“Sas!” he cried out fearfully.

Sans woke with a start, blinking rapidly. He realized he was tipping, and righted himself with a gasp.

“S-sorry,” he said groggily, still blinking. “I-I didn’t r-realize.... W-we _have_ to g-get out of h-here.”

Sans looked back up at the bones, struggling to keep his thoughts focused. He shuddered heavily, then looked at Papyrus. His eyes fell on his brother’s scarf, still sodden, when an idea came to him.

“P-Pap,” he said, shivering terribly. “I-I’m g-gonna carry y-you on m-my back, a-and tie y-your sc-scarf around m-me so y-you don’t sl-slip. I-I n-need you t-to hang on t-to my sh-shoulders, o-ok?”

Papyrus nodded weakly, then started taking his scarf off. Sans helped him loosen it, then pulled it free.

He then sat Papyrus on the bone bridge so he could stand, gave him the blue bone to hold, and turned, offering his back to him. The little skeleton gripped his brother’s shoulders, the blue bone clutched in his left hand, as Sans swung one of the ends of the scarf around their backs, grabbing it around his other side. He brought the ends together, pulling them so that it was snug, and tied them in a knot. He slowly leaned forward onto the bone stairs, testing to make sure that Papyrus was secure. The little skeleton wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck in fear of falling, but was otherwise fine on his back.

With a deep breath, Sans began crawling up the bones, on his hands and knees, his little brother’s light skeletal body barely a burden. He started slowly, but the urge to get to the top pushed him to speed up slightly as he neared the little platform Papyrus had created at the top of the stairway. When he reached it, he remained on his hands and knees as Papyrus raised his right hand to create the next set, heading in the opposite direction and above the set they had just ascended, creating a zigzagged stairway.

Sans turned carefully to face the new set, his trembling body swiveling on the smooth bones. His dizziness caused him to lose his balance for a moment, but he quickly regained it, thankful that Papyrus didn’t seem to notice. Once again, he ascended the set until he reached the next platform.

As he rested on the platform, he leaned his head against the cliff face while Papyrus created the next set. They were near the waterfall again, and the spray misted over Sans, sending a deep shudder through his bones. He shut his eyes, just wanting to sleep and forget everything they’d been through. All he had to do was lay down and—

“Sas?” Papyrus was tugging at his brother’s neck.

Sans lazily opened his eyes. “Mmm?”

“C’mon Sas,” Papyrus said, a worried tone in his voice.

“Mmkay,” Sans murmured, turning to the new set.

This time Papyrus _did_ notice when Sans’ arm buckled, leaning them a little too close to the edge.

_“Sas!”_ he cried out, tightening his arms around Sans’ neck so hard, it choked him.

Sans held on to the bones tightly as he doubled over, his eyes shut tight and tearing up, coughing harshly. He gasped for breath, collapsing onto the stairway on his stomach as his limbs gave out. They slid down the bones, causing both skeletons to emit a small, startled cry. Sans grabbed onto the bones and held on firmly, panting for breath. Papyrus was whimpering on his back.

Sans shook sense back into his head, then proceeded to climb up the set, straining to keep his focus.

They ascended several sets of Papyrus’ bone stairways, and each time they came to the waterfall side, Sans looked up, hoping to see the top, but it was still too far from his view. So he continued slogging his way up the endless sets of stairs, his condition deteriorating with every bone step.

Sans knelt on yet another platform while Papyrus created a new set. He leaned against the cliff face, wanting nothing more than to lie down and sleep. The set was complete, but Sans just stared at it, breathing slowly.

Papyrus whimpered nervously on his brother’s back. Something was definitely wrong with Sans. He’d stopped shivering, so Papyrus thought that meant he was feeling better. But his brother had stumbled and swayed worse than he had lower down on the cliff face. They had nearly tipped over the edge countless times, and he was no longer sure that Sans realized he was doing so. He looked up—the top of the cliff had come into view a couple sets ago, and each one brought them closer. They just needed to go a little farther.

Sans started up the set—or rather, he fell towards it and used the momentum to urge him on. He, too, had seen that they were nearly there. But it was still so far away. They’d never reach it, what was the point of going on?

At the next platform, Sans rested as his brother created new bones, and decided that he was done. He turned and fell onto the set, reaching under him to untie the scarf.

Papyrus felt the scarf go slack and clutched to his brother, thinking it had accidentally come undone.

“Pap, yougo, gowanup,” Sans murmured, his face pressed into the bones, his words running together. “Leame here.”

Papyrus, who was still weak from his injuries, shook his head violently.

“No!” he cried. “Pa no leave Sas! We go home togevur!”

Sans didn’t answer. He was too tired to answer.

Papyrus nudged his brother’s shoulders. “Sas! Wake up! Wake up, Sas!”

Sans didn’t have the strength to open his eyes, but summoned strength to speak.

“Gonstay here. Ifyou donleave, I’ll rolloff, thenyou’ll hafta golone.”

This terrified Papyrus to his very core. He couldn’t bear to think of leaving his brother behind, but he also didn’t want him to fall off the edge into the depths, just so he would go on without him. He didn’t know what to do, so all he could do was bury his face in his brother’s damp shirt and weep.

Sans was semi-conscious, but he felt his brother’s warm tears on his back and heard him sobbing. It broke his heart, and roused him to try another set. He knotted the scarf clumsily, then crawled up the stairs, dragging himself on his stomach.

Papyrus had felt the scarf tighten around him and watched his brother slowly ascend. He stopped crying, a glimmer of hope that his brother hadn’t fully given up sparking in his soul. He nestled into his brother’s back, still scared of losing him.

Sans reached the platform, swaying on his hands and knees as Papyrus created another set.

“Almos dere, Sas,” he said, nudging his brother’s shoulder. “Jusa lil more.”

Sans gave a grunting sigh, unable to form an answer, then dragged himself up the set.

“Sas!” Papyrus shouted, looking up after making the last set. “We here! Look! Look! We here!”

Sans slumped against the cliff face, not responding through his rapid panting. The further up they had climbed, the warmer the air was, even with the chilled mists from the waterfall. Sans’ shivering had returned, but so had his alertness. However, he was thoroughly exhausted and desperately needed to get back to the shelter.

He looked up at the edge, his teeth chattering as they clenched in determination to finish this final stretch. He wobbled when he pushed away from the cliff face and collapsed on his stomach with a pained grunt, then achingly dragged himself up, bone by agonizing bone, until their heads were over the edge.

Papyrus saw his brother’s haversack and jacket near the cattail clusters, and his little bag and the pile of lucent gems in the little stretch of path sandwiched between the two waterways. He gasped happily, nudging his brother’s shoulders in his weakened excitement.

“Sas! Sas! We made it!”

Sans crawled off the last platform onto the soft, damp hydric soil, dragging himself and his brother several feet from the edge, then yanked to undo the knot of the scarf under him. When Papyrus was freed, Sans shut his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh.

Papyrus rolled off his brother’s back and stood up, shakily. His back, ribs, and neck were still in a great deal of pain, but he staggered over to his brother’s things.

Sans shivered on the ground, every inch of him hurting, his limbs aching and heavy, his fingers and toes burning and numb. Suddenly, he felt something cover him and opened his eyes slightly.

Papyrus had brought his jacket over and laid it on his shivering brother. He was now sitting next to him, rubbing his back vigorously to warm him up.

The sight of his jacket urged Sans to sit up, despite his body’s protests to stay down. He tried to pull of his damp shirt, but struggled, so Papyrus helped him. Once he was free of it, he put on his dry jacket and zipped it up to his chin, shuddering. Papyrus leaned against his brother to offer any additional warmth he could give, and shut his heavy eyes.

Sans sat, trembling from chills and exertion, putting his arm around his brother, and gave another deep sigh. They had made it.

The fog in Sans’ mind cleared enough that he remembered what was in his jacket pocket, and he gasped at the thought, shoved his hand in, and pulled out the bag of dried fruit. He shoved several pieces into his mouth, chewing their sweetness gratefully, then nudged his brother to take some as well, since Papyrus had used a great deal of his own magic up as well. Papyrus chewed the pieces slowly, too tired to care about the candy-like sweets he was just given.

Sans felt some of his pain ease, although his shivering continued. More importantly, he felt much of his fatigue dissipate—his magic was replenishing with the fruit. He ate another handful, feeling better with each swallow.

Although he was still in a seriously weakened state, he knew he needed to get up. He got to his feet, stumbling slightly when his knees buckled, and made his way to his haversack and shoes, as Papyrus sat watching him on the ground, too weak to stand back up.

Sans shoved his feet in his shoes, not even caring to tie the laces, and shouldered his haversack with a grunt. Then he saw his brother’s things and staggered over to the waterway. He looked down at it, far too weak and tired to jump over. He raised his left hand and grinned with chattering teeth as a white bone bridge was created—his magic was back. He shakily crossed the bridge, then knelt down beside his brother’s things.

He unshouldered his haversack and put his brother’s little bag inside, along with the pile of gems his brother had gathered. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glint, and turned to look into the water.

There, sticking out of the mud of the bank, was a pink gem, just under the surface of the water. The memory of seeing his brother standing in about the same spot, bending over to reach something in the water, flashed in his mind. _This_ is what his brother had been trying to reach. _This_ was the thing that he had been trying to get when he fell and was swept away.

Sans reached in and pulled the gem out of the water and looked at it. To the jeweler, a pink gem cost 200 gold. This gem, however, had almost cost his brother his life.

The impulse to throw the gem over the edge where his brother had almost died rose up in Sans, but as he turned around, he saw his brother looking over at him. His face had fallen as he sat there, sad and ashamed. Sans felt a lump in his throat.

Sans looked down at the gem, gripping it in fingers trembling with cold and anger. He shut his eyes tightly, then opened them as he put the pink gem in the haversack with the others.

His brother almost died for that gem. He was collecting them to help get food and supplies. He was just trying to help.... How could he throw away the gem his brother risked his life to try to get?

Sans shouldered his bag, teetering slightly, then crossed the bridge. After making his bone bridge and the blue bone next to Papyrus disappear, he went over to his brother and grinned weakly.

“L-let’s g-go home.”

Papyrus stood up, still on the verge of tears, and picked up his scarf and his brother’s shirt. Sans tied his damp shirt around one of the bag’s straps and gently wrapped the scarf around his brother’s neck. Then he held out his hand, which Papyrus took hold of.

Sans shut his eyes and took a step, the rushing wind biting against his chilled bones.

Then he felt the warmth. The soothing, comforting warmth of their shelter.

He opened his eyes, knowing what he would see before his eyes saw it.

It was so good to be home.

The two skeletons changed out of their damp clothing, dried themselves on the toasty rough cloth from the fire room, and put on fresh, warm clothes. They smiled at each other, both reveling in the feeling of the fabrics on chilled bones.

Sans looked at the pile of wet clothes in need of washing, still reeking from the decayed filth that covered them, but decided against it. They could wait. They weren’t important right now.

He took the pot from the side of the basin, filled with warmed water, and shakily poured some into their two cups. The brothers drank the warm water gratefully, feeling it warm their insides.

Both of them were full from the mushrooms and dried fruit, so they were spared having to prepare any food. Instead, Sans grabbed extra fabrics from the fire room and laid them on the bed. He helped Papyrus into bed and put his haversack at the head, gently lifting his brother’s head to lay on it.

Papyrus tugged Teddy into a warm embrace as Sans slid into the bed, pulling the warm fabrics over them. He made his blue bones disappear, then rolled over to take his brother into his arms.

He wanted to hug him as tight as he could, happy to have him back, relieved that he wasn’t lost forever, grateful that he had survived a fall that could have killed him.... But he held him gently, not wanting to re-injure his fully healed bones. He remembered the pain during his recovery, despite his brother completely healing his injuries. So he hugged him closely, but not too tight.

Papyrus fell asleep in minutes, sleep that would help him heal further. He fell into slumber as he clutched his brother, afraid to let go.

Sans nuzzled into his brother’s head. Despite the nightmare they had endured, they were now all right. Yes, they had to recover—Papyrus especially—but for now, they were safe, warm, and together.

The magical fire gently blazed in the other room, sending its heat through the shelter to comfort its inhabitants as it dried away the remnants of the moisture from their clothes and bones. The flame watched over the sleeping brothers, embracing them with its soothing warmth and soft glow.


	30. Chapter 30

Three days had passed before Sans started feeling like himself again.

He had spent the last few days resting, drinking plenty of warmed water, eating foods that didn’t require a lot of preparation, and bundling up in warmed fabrics. The fire room had once again become host to a slew of draped fabrics soaking up heat, getting switched out every few hours. He still had the occasional chill, but he was grateful that his shivering was long gone—aside from a shudder every now and then—and that his strength had mostly returned.

Papyrus was still bedridden, recuperating from his fractures and broken bones.

Sans had checked the state of his injuries the morning after they had returned from the rotten mounds, and was glad—and impressed—to see that Papyrus had healed himself perfectly. His missing rib had reformed as if it had never been gone, and the rest of his injured bones were fully intact. He still suffered aching stiffness, especially in his neck and lower spine, and was exceedingly tired, but that was to be expected. Sans would give him several days before he started helping his brother stretch out his stiffness, which would help alleviate his pain.

In the meantime, Sans made sure Papyrus ate plenty of food, rested constantly, and drank several cups of warmed up water.

As Sans watched his brother sleeping on that third morning, he gave a sigh of gratitude that they both had had full nights’ sleep for over a month before the incident. Had it not been for their extra HP gained each night, they never would have survived their ordeal. Even after the incident, they were both well over 200 HP of their maximum HP. Sans was glad that he was understanding more about how sleep, food, and caution affected their health, appreciating the wisdom of their parents’ maxims and warnings from when he was younger and didn’t know better.

Papyrus was especially fortunate. Sans shuddered at the thought of how hard he must have hit the water to cause such damage to his tough bones, and couldn’t help but wonder if his attempt at blue soul magic had saved Papyrus by slowing his fall down considerably before it failed.

He shut his eyes tightly and grit his teeth. When they returned to their magic lessons, he was _certainly_ going to practice that blue soul magic. Never again did he want to see his brother fall like that and not be able to rescue him.

Sans slipped out of bed, careful not to rouse Papyrus from his much-needed rest, and stood up. Having extricated himself from the nice, warm bed, a shiver went through him. He rubbed his upper arms and hunched over, giving a hushed “ _brrr!”_ before shuffling over to the pantry for a cup.

As he entered the fire room, the magical flame washed over him with its gentle warmth. He poured himself some warm water that had been melting in the pot overnight and sipped it as he stared into the ever-flickering flame.

He was too tired to attempt his morning routine, so instead, after wiping his emptied cup dry and putting it back on the shelf, he grabbed a pear for breakfast. He returned to the fire room as he munched, not wanting to sit on the snowy floor. As he finished, his face had warmed to the point that he felt flushed.

His ears perked when he heard the pained grunt of his brother waking. Sans put the pear core in the waste bag and grabbed a banana, then headed over to the bed.

“Morning, Pap,” he grinned, sitting on the edge.

“Monin, Sas,” Papyrus answered with a grunt, his face grimaced in the discomfort from his stiff, sore bones.

“How are you feeling?” Sans asked, cracking the peel open by the stem.

“Mmmh,” the little skeleton grumbled.

“Yeah,” Sans answered, raising his eyebrows in sympathy. “It will take a while before that goes away. But here, this will help.”

He handed a chunk of the banana to his brother. Papyrus grasped it and took a big bite. He hummed happily as he chewed it, enjoying the taste.

“I’m going to go to the market today,” Sans said, breaking the rest of the banana up into smaller bits. “We’re running low on a lot, and I feel well enough to head out again.”

Papyrus looked up at him, his mouth full of banana as he nodded.

“I want you to keep resting,” his brother said, giving him another piece.

Papyrus nodded again. “M’kay. Pa tired anyway.”

“Yeah,” Sans grinned sadly. “I know.”

Papyrus finished his banana, then drank a cup of warm water while Sans switched out the haversack for a warm pile of fabrics for a pillow. He cuddled up with Teddy as his brother tucked him in.

Sans put on his jacket, shoes, and the haversack, which was emptied of the items stuffing it. He wasn’t taking gems or compost because he wanted to make it a short trip. He felt bad for not having any mushrooms this time to donate, but he had intended on collecting them at the end of their excursion in the darkened area the day Papyrus was swept down the waterfall. He sighed, making a mental note to bring double the following week.

When he was set to leave, he leaned over the bed to nuzzle his brother, who had been watching him through half-closed lids.

“I’ll be back soon, Pap,” Sans whispered. “You rest.”

Papyrus nuzzled back, giving a murmur indicating that he would.

Sans stood back up and shifted his sights on Papyrus’ bear, looking him in the eyes as he raised an eyebrow.

“Teddy, you take care of him, ok? Make sure he doesn’t get out of bed, and protect him while I’m gone, all right?”

Papyrus giggled softly, burying his face in his soft teddy bear’s fur. Sans rubbed Teddy’s head, then his brother’s, with a grin.

Sans moved to the center of the room and turned back to face his brother.

“Love you,” he said, smiling warmly.

“Love you, too,” Papyrus answered softly, returning the smile.

Papyrus watched as Sans closed his eyes, took a step, and was engulfed by the large blue flame for an instant before the fire and Sans were gone.

Sans ran through the list of things they needed in his mind as he walked swiftly down the winding streets to the market, hoping to get what they needed quickly.

The streets of the city were filled with monsters rushing here and there, as usual. The breezes that trailed the passersby slipped into Sans’ pulled-up hood and down his shirt collar, sending shivers down his spine. He kept his head down, walking faster, eagerly looking forward to sipping more warm water by the fire when he returned.

The first shop he visited was the tailor’s. He perused through the fabrics in the hopes of getting a large piece to serve as a thick blanket. He had wanted to replace the scraps of fabric with a single covering for a while, and the recent events underscored their need for one.

However, the materials that would serve as a blanket were far more expensive than Sans had hoped. Although he had enough gold to purchase a piece of soft, thick fabric the size of their bed, the single cloth would cost more than four months of food. It would be nice to have it, but they were already making due with the scraps that they had, and food was more important than the luxury of one blanket.

He left the shop empty handed and slightly discouraged, but grateful that they were fortunate enough to have found the scraps that kept them warm when they easily could be sleeping with nothing but the clothes on their backs. With a sigh, he moved on.

Sans made his food purchases swiftly and was about to search for an empty alleyway to transport home, when he glanced at Ashen’s shop and hesitated. As much as he wanted to get back to the shelter, he really could benefit from a visit with his galline friend.

Ashen was sitting in her chair behind the counter—knitting as always—humming a soft, cheery tune. As Sans approached, she put her knitting in the basket he had made her and stood up to greet him.

“Why, hello, Sans!” she said happily.

The smile on his face faltered when he saw her—the grey hen was looking much thinner than the last time he had seen her. His voice caught in his throat for a moment.

“A-Ashen,” he breathed. “Are you...are you all right?”

She cocked her head in confusion, then realized why he seemed so worried.

“Oh!” she said with a small laugh. “Sans, I’m fine. I’m moulting right now, so I look a bit slim.”

Sans sighed with relief. “Ah, ok. Sorry, I just.... I was worried you might be sick or something.”

“No need to be sorry,” Ashen smiled as she looked down at herself. “I’ll only be this trim for a little while, then I’ll be back to my normal, filled-out self.”

She gave a shudder that made her reduced feathers ruffle as she twisted herself to look towards her tail, seeming to admire her temporary, slender figure.

As she turned back, she pulled her wing around, causing a slight gust that hit Sans softly, sending him into another shiver.

“Speaking of sick,” she said, her own face now the picture of concern. “Sans, are you feeling ok?”

Sans rubbed his upper arms and huddled slightly until the chill was gone, then straightened himself up, putting a grin on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered. “It’s nothing.”

Ashen furrowed her brow worriedly, but didn’t pursue the matter.

They went on to chat about their weeks, their projects, and other such things. Sans omitted to tell her about what they had just gone through, especially since he hadn’t disclosed that he and his brother were living outside the cavern.

He purchased a pair of thick, fluffy red socks in Papyrus’ size before leaving, then the two friends bid their farewells.

Sans opened his eyes, having returned to the shelter. He smiled at the sight of his little brother in the bed, fast asleep, curled up with Teddy.

He put away the food, took out the socks and laid them at the foot of the bed, then warmed himself by the fire, sipping his warmed water. His trip to the cavern had been quite short, but he was still rather tired. He sighed as he looked into the magical flame, mesmerized by its undulating dance.

His eyes drifted down to the small bits of wood that fueled the fire, sighing again deeply—they didn’t have much left in their woodpile. For a moment, he thought about the numerous pieces of wood down on those mounds of refuse. There was enough wood there to last them for decades.

Thinking about that place caused his face to involuntarily contort in disgust. That place, with its vile stench, piles of decayed muck, and not a dry inch to be found.

Part of him hated that place for what it had done to them—to Papyrus. He would be happy never seeing that terrible place again.

But part of him knew that they could use the valuable wood. He could just pop down there, grab some, and be back in no time.

A shiver ran down his spine as he thought of the place. Of all that water. But the wood....

Honestly, if they were that desperate for wood, they could always destroy the torches for their lumber. But if any of the monsters left the cavern, returned down the path, and saw the missing torches, they would know someone else was in the valley. They might even send out the Royal Guard to search the area, leading them to find their shelter. They’d be found and split apart....

Sans ran his hand over his face in frustration. He didn’t know what to do—taking the wood from those wet depths would be safer, but he didn’t like the idea of calling the place that almost killed his brother _safe_.

He heaved a grumbling sigh. He didn’t want to think about this now. He was too angry at that place for what it did to Papyrus.

He shut his eyes and stifled a sob. He was too angry at himself, too.

Ever since they had returned, Sans had replayed what had happened over and over again in his mind. And the more the memory repeated, the more he saw how he failed to prevent it.

He _knew_ the waterfalls and the edge were dangerous, that they emptied off into nothingness. Why didn’t he create a bone fence along the edge?! It would have caught his brother as he was swept down the waterway. The only reason Papyrus was still alive was because he landed in the water below. His brother could have fallen into a bottomless pit, or ground made entirely of rock. But he didn’t take the intelligent precautions necessary to stop his brother from falling over the edge. He’d created a fence before at the cavern hole. Why wasn’t he smart enough to have done it again?!

But Papyrus never would have fallen into the water if he hadn’t been startled. Why did he shout out at Papyrus like that?! Couldn’t he have said it quieter, instead of scaring his brother so he would tumble in?!

Why did he even take Papyrus to such a dangerous area?! As soon as he looked over the edge, he should have left that place immediately. Were cattails and gems worth risking his brother’s life?!

He wasn’t even _near_ him when he fell—he had left Papyrus all by himself, surrounded by rushing, deep waters, close to the edge of a void, and he _left_ him to go get the stupid cattails. He was supposed to take care of his brother, not leave him!

He was supposed to take care of his brother....

_Take care of Papyrus._

His mother’s dying wish echoed in his mind.

What would she think if she saw what had happened to Papyrus since leaving them in the cave? How many times had his life been threatened? How many injuries had he sustained?

She would be so ashamed of Sans. She trusted him, and he let her down.

Sans clenched his teeth, furious with himself. He felt the hot tears coursing down his face as he leaned against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat in a heap, his knees against his chest. The cup fell out of his hand, the last bit of water spilling out onto the floor as he buried his face in his hands, weeping bitterly.

_I’m so sorry, Mommy.... I let you down.... I’m so very sorry...._

He should take Papyrus to the cavern. To the orphanage for smaller children.

He should take his brother to those who will _actually_ take care of him.

He should have his brother torn from him, because that’s what he deserved.

He should have been a better brother. Papyrus deserved more.

He should—

Papyrus tossed and turned, waking at the sounds of his brother’s stifled cries. He was moaning slightly from his discomfort.

“Sas?” he called out. “You home?”

“Yeah, Pap,” Sans answered, raising his voice to a joyful tone. “Just drinking some water and warming by the fire. Be there in a moment.”

He couldn’t let Papyrus see him like this. It would upset him, adding to his failures as a brother. He took a handful of snow from the wall and scrubbed his face and eyes with it, erasing any signs that he had been crying. He dried his face with a bit of rough cloth, made sure all his tears were held back, put a grin on his face, then entered the main room.

He couldn’t look his brother in the eyes yet, so, instead, he focused on the socks at the foot of the bed.

“Look, Pap!” he exclaimed, holding them up as he stuffed down the fury at himself. “I got you something!”

Papyrus gasped softly, his eyes widening at the sight of the fluffy socks. “Wowie!”

Sans shut his eyes, hiding them in a grin. “They match your scarf! I’ll put them on!”

He slipped the socks on his brother’s bare feet, giving them a squeeze when he was done.

“Whaddya think?”

“Dey _so_ soft!” he said, rubbing his feet against each other as he looked down at them where he lay. “Fanks, Sas! I love dem!”

“I’m glad,” Sans answered. “They’ll keep you nice and warm.”

“Dey feel like Teddy,” Papyrus grinned, giving his bear a loving nuzzle. “Teddy for my footsies!”

“And that’s not all,” Sans’ grin was becoming more genuine by the moment.

He headed over to the pantry shelf and pulled down a small pastry bag. He pulled out one of the contents to show his brother.

“Cookie!” Papyrus cried out happily. He would be jumping for joy had he been able to.

“Yup!” Sans replied, stuffing the cookie back in the bag. “I got you some for desert for the next few nights.”

The little skeleton gasped with joy at the thought of more than one cookie. Sans turned, putting the cookies back on the shelf.

“Sas, you da bestest bruver in da whole world!”

The words cut through Sans’ soul like a sharp knife. He was glad his back was to his brother, so he couldn’t see his face. He shut his eyes tight, gritting his teeth, as livid arguments against that statement pierced his mind all at once.

_No. I’m not. You deserve better. I upset you all the time. I can’t even take care of you. You’ve gone hungry because I couldn’t feed you. You nearly killed yourself over the falls because of me. You nearly froze to death because of me. You lost Mommy because of me. I’m the worst brother in the world._

_You’re better off without me._

“No, Pap,” Sans said through clenched teeth, his voice low.

He turned around, his mouth upturned in a perfect, false grin.

“ _You’re_ the best brother in the whole world,” he continued with a wink, his voice light and happy, not at all betraying the bitter hatred for himself that was clawing at his chest.

Papyrus’ smile and little laugh were so warm, it made Sans’ charade all the more easier to keep up.

The winds outside the shelter curled small currents of snowflakes as they picked up in strength. Snow was falling steadier as a gentle snowsquall brewed.

The storm emerging out in the valley was nowhere near as tumultuous as the storm that was developing inside the skeleton within the little shelter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter has a few milestones with it.
> 
> We're at the 30th chapter! Woohoo! I'm partial to the number 3, so while it's not a proper milestone like 10, 25, 50, etc, it's special to me. I can't believe it's been 30 chapters with my two darling skeleton boys. 
> 
> This story is now over 100K words. My GOSH, I write a lot of words! Thank you to everyone who has read every single one of these words!
> 
> And lastly, this story just received it's 100th Kudos. I cannot tell you how stunned I am to have even gotten a single Kudos, let alone 100. It means so much to me that you guys would not only read this story, but feel it's deserving of a Kudos. It tells me that what I'm writing is actually good, which, for someone who has severely terrible self-esteem, blows my mind. So thank you. Really. Thank you. When I started writing this, I didn't think anyone would like my theories, writing style, and story concept, and there's 100 of you who proved me wrong.
> 
> Thank you all again for reading. These milestones mean the world to me, and keep me determined to keep writing when all my self-doubt says otherwise. I appreciate each and every one of you. :)


	31. Chapter 31

“Ok, look up at the ceiling.”

Papyrus turned his head upwards, staring at the snowy ceiling of their shelter as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Good, good,” Sans nodded. “Now down at the floor.”

The little skeleton dropped his head to look at his feet, his chin pressed against his collarbone.

“Now, left.”

He lifted his head to look at the opening of the shelter.

“And right.”

He swiveled his head, looking at his brother’s jacket and his scarf, hanging on the coat rack near the fire room.

“Now look at me.”

Papyrus turned his head back center, his eyes meeting Sans’ as he knelt in front of him on the floor next to the bed.

“Great!” Sans grinned. “You didn’t wince at all! How does it feel?”

Papyrus tilted his head side to side before answering. “Feels better. No more achy.”

“I’m so glad, Pap,” Sans smiled.

It had been two weeks since the incident at the waterfall. Papyrus had been able to sit up without too much pain about a week after it, and his brother had guided him through bone training exercises to help him get back to his old self.

“Ok, let’s make sure your back and those ribs of yours are doing better, too.”

Sans had Papyrus lean back, forward, to one side, then the other, twist left to right, and then stretch his arms above his head, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. There was no wincing, no more pain.

“Well, Pap,” Sans grinned, raising an eyebrow as he rubbed the top of his brother’s head. “Looks like you’re back to normal now.”

“Yay!” his brother exclaimed, throwing his arms back up in the air and waggling them.

“Which means,” Sans said, lengthening the words to add to their weight. “That you are now able to go outside again.”

Papyrus gasped, his fallen jaw slowly creeping to a wide smile.

“Yup,” Sans winked. “You definitely seem well enough. You still have to be careful, though. But I don’t see why not.”

Sans stood up, rubbed his brother’s skull once more, then went to the pantry.

“Let’s make some breakfast, then we’ll figure out what we’ll do today.”

Papyrus slid off the bed and was at his brother’s side to help him prepare the meal.

Soon they were sat at their little table, munching on granola cereal with banana slices, chopped nuts, and milk, multigrain toast with mixed fruit jelly, and ice-cold water to wash it all down.

“I don’t want to do anything too strenuous,” Sans said after a sip of water. “So I think we should hold off on training for another couple days.”

Papyrus nodded, his jellied toast still in his jaws mid-bite.

Sans hesitated to suggest what he had in mind, having agonized over it for days and was still unsure if they should do it. But, deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do. He couldn’t avoid the area forever out of fear, and it was better to get it over with sooner rather than putting it off for an indefinite amount of time.

“What...what about...,” he had trouble even saying it. He took a deep breath before trying again. “How do you feel about going back to that area...with the gems and mushrooms?”

He shifted his eyes up from the half-eaten bowl of cereal he was staring at to look at his brother.

Papyrus blinked, then put his toast back on his plate as he swallowed his bite. He looked down at his feet a moment, still wearing the fuzzy red socks his brother had got him when he was recovering. He sheepishly looked up to meet his brother’s gaze, his mouth twitching to voice the question he had been afraid to ask since the incident.

“I mean—” Sans said quickly, eager to fill the silence with words as he concentrated on a banana slice sitting in his cereal. Of _course_ his brother was still too traumatized to want to go back. He knew it was a bad idea, and never should have suggested it. “—you know, we don’t have to, I’m sure there’s something else we could—”

“Sas?”

Sans looked up. His brother’s voice was soft, even timid. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Are you mad at me?” Papyrus asked as his lip quivered. His eyes shone as tears welled up.

“Mad at you?” Sans blinked, stunned that his brother would even think that, having given him no indication of being upset at him. “Wh-why would I be mad at you?”

Papyrus stared at his lap, which caused a few tears to spill. He couldn’t even face his brother as he let loose the worries that had filled his mind since that terrible day.

“Cuz I went inna wata when you said not to, an den I fell in da wata, an I couldn’t get out, an den I fell in da air, an den you hadta come alla way down to find me, an den you got too cold an tired an hurt an den we hadta go alla way up, an...an...an....”

Papyrus’ tears were flowing freely now, his shoulders shaking with sobs. He looked up into Sans’ face, his expression heartbreakingly sorrowful.

“Sas, I’m so sorry I dinin lissen an went inna wata! I’m so sorry! I did very bad, an I’m really, really sorry!”

Papyrus buried his face in his hands and wept loudly. Sans immediately got up and knelt beside him, putting his arms around his little brother to hug him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sans whispered soothingly. “Shh...shh.... Pap, it’s ok. I’m not mad at you. I was never mad at you.”

Papyrus clutched his brother, crying hard into his shoulder. He sobbed into Sans’ shirt, which muffled the cries that poured from the depths of his soul. Sans nuzzled into the side of Papyrus’ head gently, shutting his own eyes.

“Papyrus, really,” he whispered into his ear. “I’m not mad. Yeah, I was scared. _Really_ scared. Scared that I lost you. But, no, I wasn’t mad then, and I’m not mad now.”

He pulled back and lifted Papyrus’ chin to look him in the eye. The little skeleton was sniffling, his tear-soaked face jerking slightly from suppressed sobs with every breath.

Sans’ brow was furrowed sadly, but he grinned reassuringly. “More than anything, I am happy that you are ok. I was happy when I found you, I’m happy that you’re better, and I am happy that you’re back here with me, safe and sound.”

“Sas not mad at me for not lissening?” Papyrus mumbled through tears.

“No, I’m not,” Sans said, wiping his brother’s tears with his thumbs. “I know it was an accident, and I know you were only trying to get that gem to help me with food. It was a terrible accident—I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

Papyrus’ mouth twitched as his tears slowed. “I won’t do it again. Next time, I ask for help, not do dangerous fings by myself.”

“And I will always be there to help you,” Sans said, his soul twinging as his anger towards himself started rising, reminding him of how he failed last time.

“Fanks, Sas,” Papyrus gave a weak smile, wiping his eyes on his sleeves.

“Now, let’s finish breakfast,” Sans grinned, rubbing the top of his brother’s skull playfully. “Then we’ll get ready to go.”

“M’kay,” the little skeleton nodded with a sniffle, then turned back to his meal.

Sans returned to his seat, gave his brother an encouraging smile, and continued eating.

The two brothers finished their breakfast in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Sans brought over his brother’s scarf as Papyrus was taking off his thick socks to put on his shoes.

“I washed it,” Sans said, spreading it out to show him. “It’s nice and clean now, and it dried by the fire, so it’s soft again.”

“Fanks, Sas,” Papyrus smiled as his brother wrapped it around his neck.

“I also washed your bag,” Sans said, holding it out for him to take. “Got all the mud and dirt off it.”

Papyrus thanked his brother again as he slipped the rope handle over his head, patting it as it sat at his hip. It was clean and empty—ready to be stuffed with more gems and other findings.

Sans put the paper bag with their lunch in the haversack and checked his pockets. A cloth bag filled with dried fruit was in his jacket pocket, and in his pants pocket was the small emergency packet of dried fruit he had prepared.

Determined not to be caught without dried fruit to replenish his magic like before, he had put a small amount in a piece of parchment paper, wrapped it up tight, then covered it in wax to keep the bundle waterproof. He had been keeping the wax that encased their cheese since first buying them from the market, knowing that it had many good uses, such as this. He then wrapped the waxed package in a few layers of parchment paper to protect his pocket from the wax, tying the bundle up with twine.

Sans shouldered his haversack, the nagging desire to cancel the trip to protect Papyrus grasping at his chest. He shook it off—they would be ok, they would be more careful from now on. _He_ would be more careful from now on.

He held out his hand for his brother, his wide grin hiding the misgivings haunting his mind. Papyrus smiled back, taking his big brother’s hand, and in seconds, they were gone.

Sans hadn’t let go of Papyrus’ hand since he took hold of it in the shelter. They had made their way through many winding paths, searching for a good spot to collect things they needed.

Soon they came across an open area with more land than water, the walls and floors teeming with gems and mouseshroom nightlights. In the narrow waterways that ran along the area were numerous clusters of cattails. Sans smiled with relief—the area had no edges that dropped into nothingness, no waterfalls to sweep little skeletons away. It was a nice, large, safe area enclosed by walls with lots to collect.

After surveying the room and feeling satisfied, Sans let go of Papyrus’ hand. He walked over to one of the waterways and peered into it. He was relieved that he could see the bottom, noting that it would go just above their shins at its deepest.

“Ok, Pap,” Sans said as he took off his shoes. “I’m going to get these cattails. Feel free to grab any gems you find.”

“Okay,” Papyrus nodded, his face serious.

As Sans watched his brother go off to gather gems, dread crept over him.

_No,_ he told himself firmly. _He’ll be fine. It’s safer here, he’s learned from the last time, and he’ll be all right._

Sans sighed, exhaling his growing anxiety. He then rolled up his pant legs and made a blue bone knife. The sickening feeling of déjà vu weighed heavily on him.

_He will be fine. It’s not like last time. Once this trip is over, I’ll feel better about him being here, because there won’t be any accidents. I just need to get through this. He will be just fine._

Sans took a deeper, more cleansing breath, and turned his attention to the waterway near him. He stepped in, gasping at the chilly waters on his bare feet, and sloshed through to the clusters.

For the first several minutes, he kept looking at his brother. Then he allowed himself to focus on the cattails, cutting through their shoots at the bases.

Papyrus was busy. The area was huge and filled with so much great stuff—too much for his little bag. As soon as he couldn’t put another gem inside, he returned to Sans’ shoes and emptied his bag out next to them. Now that his bag was empty, he went off to fill it again.

Once Sans had collected the cattails from the waterway, he went back to his shoes and the piles of gems his brother had left him. He glanced over at his brother, who was walking in a crouch as he scooped up gems from the ground.

Sans bundled up the cattails with twine and laid them on the ground. He headed over to a different waterway, calling out to his brother.

“Pap! I’m going to be over there now if you need me! You doing ok?”

Papyrus poked his head up and waved.

“M’fine! Lotsa gems!”

“Yeah! You’re doing great!” Sans grinned.

The two brothers spent the day gathering gems, cattails, and mushrooms, placing them with the other bundles and piles, stopping only to wash their hands in the waterway and eat the lunch Sans had prepared—peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, celery sticks, an apple between them, and smoked gouda cheese.

Sans dropped the last bundle of cattails on the huge pile of things that had amassed. He wiped his sweaty brow on his sleeve and blew a sigh of tiredness—although there was no way to tell the hour, he knew it was getting close to dinner time. They had been at their tasks all day, as evidenced by the number of items in front of him.

“Hey, Pap!” Sans called out. “Ready to head back?”

The little skeleton didn’t even answer. He stood up and headed right over, his little bag filled to the brim with gems.

Sans filled his haversack until it, too, was full, then shouldered it.

“I’ll bring you home, then come back for the rest of this,” he said, gesturing to the piles that remained on the ground.

Papyrus nodded. Sans could tell he was tired from the long day, too.

They returned to the shelter, and Sans quickly emptied his haversack. Papyrus started putting the items away—the cattails against the wall, the gems in the basket under the coat hooks, the mushrooms in the large basket in the pantry.

“Ok, I’ll be right back,” Sans said, and then was gone.

Sans only needed a couple more trips to bring all the collected items into the shelter. They hadn’t planned it this way, but it was a very efficient method that Sans decided to adopt for their future exploration trips.

They prepared dinner together and ate, discussing their findings, the goodness of their food, and potential plans for the upcoming days. They were tired from the events of the day, but it was a _good_ tired, a weariness that comes from a productive day’s work, one that left them feeling accomplished and happy.

Sans walked through the streets of the purple cavern’s city in a rather good mood. He had just dropped off his mushroom donations in the domed building. He had apologized profusely for not being able to give anything the last couple weeks as he emptied his haversack fit to bursting with mushrooms into the donation crates, in addition to four large parcels of them wrapped in parchment paper that he had been carrying in his arms. As he rolled up the parchment paper to put in his bag, the charity workers thanked him repeatedly, insisting that he need not feel bad because he had already done more than enough.

He was now off to the tailor’s shop, a hint of excitement tickling the bottom of his stomach. He finally had enough cattail flowers to make pillows for him and his brother, and was going to get the material. No more sleeping on the bumpy, hard haversack for them!

The ferret tailor took the spool of thin, white cotton fabric Sans had picked out and cut a piece to the size he requested. He was even so kind as to cut the fabric in half when Sans told him what he was making with it, saving Sans the trouble. With much appreciation, Sans handed over the gold, put the folded-up fabric in his bag, and bid the ferret a wonderful day.

After his food shopping, Sans went to Ashen’s shop to finish his trip. As he entered, she rose to greet him with her cheery smile. Sans inwardly winced—she was even more gaunt than she was the last time he saw her.

“Sans! I’m so glad you’re here!” Ashen exclaimed with a touch of exhilaration. “I have something for you!”

“Don’t tell me,” Sans gasped as she rounded the counter. “Did you get a writing utensil in?”

“No, no,” she answered, her voice regretful. “Believe me, when I find one, you’ll be the first one to know. No, this is a gift I made for you and your brother.”

She was at one of the two chests in front of her counter. She took the crates off from on top so she could open it.

“Wh-! You... _made_ us...a-a gift?” Sans breathed, stunned. “Ashen, you didn’t have to make us anything—”

Ashen was bent over, shifting things around in the chest. “I know I didn’t have to, but I really _wanted_ to.”

She stood up with something in her wings, hiding it from Sans’ view. She turned around and held it out to him. Sans’ eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open.

It was a blanket.

Sans reached for it, his hands trembling slightly, and could not utter a sound. He took hold of the folded material, feeling its incredibly dense weight. He gently unfolded it and Ashen took the corners to hold it up so he could see it better.

The design was plaid, with violet squares on purple—the colors of the cavern—with white trim. It was extremely soft and thick, and large enough to cover them and their bed. It was _beautiful._

“I-I don’t know wh-what to say,” Sans whispered at last. His mouth just could not close and tears welled up in his eyes.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ashen smiled with the same warmth the blanket offered. “You always have your hood up, and you skeletons don’t have much on your bones to keep you warm, so I know you boys must be chilly in this drafty old cavern. But when I saw you shivering that day....my heart broke, and I knew you needed something to make sure you’re warm at night.”

Sans looked up into Ashen’s eyes, tears slipping down. “You...you have _no idea_ how much this means to me....”

Ashen gave a shudder that made the blanket ripple in her wingtips. She whispered softly. “Sans, I can only imagine what you and your brother have gone through since leaving your home. This is the least I could do.”

She wrapped him up in the blanket as she hugged him with her wings. He nestled into the soft fabric as he returned the hug.

She pulled back and started folding it up. “To make sure it’s extra warm and thick, it’s filled with my own down—not that terrible down those wretched humans make, cruelly ripped from those poor, tortured birds. No, I always collect my moulted feathers for just such a purpose, so it is nice and heavy, perfect for chasing away those shivers.”

She handed him the re-folded blanket and he took it, hugging it against himself. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Ashen, I cannot thank you enough,” he breathed, running his hand along the softness. “This is such an amazing gift.”

He placed the precious blanket in his haversack gently, then turned and gave his friend a proper hug, his arms now free.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it,” he whispered into her peach dress.

Ashen hugged him tightly, the way she used to hug her precious little chicks. “You are so welcome, my little one.”

Sans stayed for a while, chatting with his kind, thoughtful friend about this and that. Before he left, he purchased a bar of soap that smelled like raspberries, and gave Ashen one last hug. The two waved farewell as Sans left.

“Ok, I’m done!” Sans announced later that night.

Papyrus had been helping Sans by taking the empty “water sausage” flowers off the floor and putting them in the compost bag while his brother took the fluff and stuffed it into the pillows he was making.

Sans held up the two finished pillows. They were nice and large, filled out plumply, and the cotton fabric felt cool and smooth to the touch. He put them at the head of the bed, and the two skeletons tested them out. Their deep sighs of contentment and comfort indicated that they were perfect.

They turned to look at each other, smiling.

“How’s yours?” Sans asked.

“Comfy,” Papyrus answered with a happy wiggle of his skull into the pillow.

“Yeah, mine too,” Sans agreed.

He jumped up off the bed and went over to his haversack. “Ok, now I can show you the gift my friend made us.”

Papyrus watched from where he lay, not wanting to remove his head from his soft, new pillow. He knew of Sans’ friend, Ashen, as Sans had mentioned her several times.

As Sans took out the blanket, Papyrus gasped. Sans shifted the fabric scraps off the bed with Papyrus’ help, then shook out the blanket, unfolding it completely, as it landed on the bed. Papyrus’ legs were under it, and he felt the softness as he smoothed it out with his hands.

“Ooh,” he said in awe.

“I know!” Sans exclaimed, running his hands along it. “She made this special for you and me.”

“Aww, dasso nice uv her....” Papyrus took up the blanket and rubbed it against his cheekbone.

“I know,” Sans agreed with a thoughtful smile.

Sans went and got a wide basket he had made and put the fabric scraps into it, setting them aside for future use. They had served the brothers well, having kept them warm through shivering nights, covering them when they were sleeping, and getting them through the rough times when their frozen conditions were severe. Sans placed the basket against the wall across from their bed.

The two brothers got ready for bed, Papyrus made his blue bones illuminating the room disappear, and Sans pulled up their new warm blanket over them as they set their heads down on their new cushy pillows. They were so comfortable that they fell asleep soon after they wished each other good night and shut their eyes.

The magical flame tickled the skeletons with its firelight as it crackled softly within its basin, the shadows capering along the walls like puppets telling a story. Its warmth caressed the open spaces of the shelter and embraced the little pot nearby, gently melting the snow within. It flickered as if laughing with joy, happy that it need not strain itself anymore in a desperate effort to keep the cold off the little ones during the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That blanket sure looks familiar....
> 
> Also, I really want to emphasize that I do not, in any way, condone the use of down. As Ashen said, it's obtained cruelly, with no humane way of obtaining it. Since we don't have chicken monsters willing to give us their moulted down, PLEASE, I urge you, use synthetic down or any other cruelty-free materials for your blankets, coats, etc. :D
> 
> On a serious note, tomorrow, Sept 30, is the last day of my Family Medical Leave. I have been staying with my elderly dad and disabled brother, who are both high risk during the Covid crisis, and have been taking care of them since March. Not only will I be returning to work on Oct 1, but I am being forced to move out of the room I'm renting. This means I won't have computer access for a while, especially since public libraries aren't open to the public for the foreseeable future. I am half-way through the next chapter, and my goal before I leave tomorrow is to get as many chapters done as I can so that I can set them to auto-post on their update days. I will also be trying to write the chapters on my phone, but since I'll be spending most of my waking hours working and moving, I'm not sure how I'll be able to get chapters up on time.
> 
> I feel really, REALLY bad about this, but I had no idea that I was going to be losing housing again, so there was no way I could account for that. All I can say is that I will NOT be abandoning this story, so please don't think that. It's just going to be rough for a while, and there might come a point where they aren't being updated on the schedule they've been on. 
> 
> I will be posting status updates on my DeviantArt page, so if you haven't been there yet, just search for Kimtana on DA (I can't post a link because my DA profile page has a monetary link that goes against AO3's TOS).
> 
> As always, I am so grateful for the support you all have given me during this amazing journey with my two darling boys. This isn't the end for them. :)


	32. Chapter 32

The wind swirled against the rock walls, curling ribbons of snowflakes gently on the snowdrifts that reached up the walls like long, white fingers. The calmness of the gusts caressing the rocky corner was in stark contrast to the tension that was building just a short distance away.

Sans and Papyrus were surrounded.

They stood, side by side, facing opposite directions. They braced themselves, their legs apart and slightly bent, poised to attack. Both brothers held their dominant hands out by their sides at the ready.

Sans chanced a sideways glance at his brother. Papyrus stared down their opponents, unafraid, his eyes narrowed fiercely.

“You ready?” Sans’ voice was low, almost a growl.

“Mmhm,” Papyrus grunted, giving a quick, subtle nod.

“We can do this,” Sans muttered deeply, his own eyes narrowing as he surveyed those that encircled them. “We’ve got this.”

Papyrus gave another low grunt in agreement as he clenched his right hand.

“On three,” Sans whispered low. “One...two....” He shouted the last number. “ _Three!”_

The brothers arced their dominant hands forward, sending forth their vicious attacks.

Papyrus hit strong and hard with single large white bone ground attacks, destroying each enemy with a single hit. His speed was improving, going from one attack to the next almost instantly.

Sans was sending a barrage of small white bone ground attacks to those in front of him. He swiped his left hand forward as rows of countless bones sprang forth, flying down their paths until a dozen enemies were felled after being pelted savagely by a bombardment of bones.

The onslaught felt like it lasted hours, but it only took a few minutes for the battle to be over. Sans and Papyrus stood, shoulders heaving as they panted for breath, their dominant hands clenched as they scanned the area.

“Clear on your side?” Sans gasped, sweat pouring down his temples.

“Yeah,” Papyrus answered, breathing heavily.

“Heh,” Sans laughed, a victorious smirk on his face. “Then that’s all of ‘em.”

Papyrus shut his eyes momentarily, blowing a sigh. Then he turned to his brother, waving his arms high in the air above his head.

“ _Dat was so much fun!”_

Sans turned, standing at ease from the attack position he’d held himself in. He grinned widely.

“Yeah, it was!” he said with a soft laugh, wiping his brow with his sleeve.

Around the brothers was a circle of what remained of fifty snow targets, completely obliterated and crumbled to the ground.

Papyrus wiped his sweaty face with his hand, smiling. The mock battle had been his brother’s idea, and he found it far more entertaining to pretend that they were battling actual enemies than merely hitting targets for practice.

Sans went over to his haversack, grabbing their lunch so that they could eat before continuing. Papyrus joined him, still panting with exertion and exhilaration. They munched on sandwiches made with white cheddar, baby spinach, tomatoes, and mushrooms, as well as some carrot slices, and a few pieces of dried fruit to replenish their magic.

As they ate, they surveyed their devastation.

“Pap, I’ve gotta tell you,” Sans said after swallowing a hefty bite of his sandwich. “You’ve gotten so much stronger. And your speed has improved _so much_. I’m so proud of you.”

Papyrus blushed as he chewed on a carrot slice.

Sans raised his hands, still clutching his sandwich as he pointed at the fallen targets with his pinkies. “I’m gonna have to start building a hundred of those for you.”

Papyrus chuckled, almost choking on his food. He swallowed, his giggling giving his voice a higher pitch. “I’m gonna hafta build a fousand for you wif all your bones goin’ _fwoo fwoo fwoo fwoo!”_

Sans’ grin grew wider as he raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m gonna have to make a _million_ of those with your powerful bones going _KERPOW!”_

Papyrus was holding his sides as he laughed. “Oh yeah? I’m gonna hafta make billyon trillyon zillyon for alla your _doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo!”_

Sans was caught up in laughter at his brother’s silliness. “Now _that_ I’d like to see, Pap!”

It had been a long time since they had laughed like this, and it did their souls well. Once they had calmed themselves down, they continued eating, the occasional giggle sneaking in, sending them into small fits of laughter.

Once they finished lunch, Sans turned to Papyrus.

“Hey, so, before we make more targets,” he said, staring at his shoes. “I was wondering, if...if I could practice some blue soul magic with your help.”

Papyrus smiled, eager to help out his brother. “Sure, Sas. What you want me to do?”

Sans got to his feet, followed by Papyrus.

“Well,” Sans said, rubbing the back of his skull. “All I need you to do is stand there, and I’m going to try to...um...lift you up.”

Papyrus’ eyes lit up, finding the concept quite intriguing. “Okay!”

The little skeleton ran off a short distance then turned around to face his brother. He stood there, patiently, as Sans looked at him, nervously. This was the first time he would be trying blue soul magic in a practice setting, and he was still unsure how to do it successfully. Part of him worried that he would mess up, sending Papyrus careening into the rocky wall.

Sans sighed deeply, shaking his hands out, readying himself. He narrowed his eyes and raised his left hand. Holding his breath, he half-clenched his hand, pretending to grasp his brother’s soul deep in his chest.

He pictured Papyrus’ white soul, sitting in his ribcage and imagined his fingers wrapping around it. He gave his hand a tiny flinch, as if giving his soul a gentle squeeze. He glanced up at Papyrus, looking to see if he noticed anything going on inside him.

Papyrus stood there patiently, waiting.

Sans growled deeply, gritting his teeth. He pictured it again, trying to grasp his brother’s soul.

Papyrus suddenly glanced down, and Sans could see why. A blue glow seeped out through his brother’s shirt.

The corners of Sans mouth twitched—he would grin if he wasn’t concentrating so seriously. His arm was starting to hurt, he had been straining it so hard in focus. Yet he continued holding his arm out straight, his fingers in a half-clench, as he started moving his hand upward.

Papyrus’ chest moved first, as if his soul was pushing up against it. His head tilted back slightly, staring at the blue glow coming from under his shirt. He was on his tip-toes, then his legs waggled, searching for the ground that was inches under them.

Sweat trickled down Sans’ temple as he concentrated. He grunted softly as he kept lifting his brother up.

Papyrus rose about a foot off the ground when the blue glow started to flicker. Sans gasped, worried that his brother would fall too hard, so he lowered his hand slowly. Papyrus’ body came down gently until his feet were back on the ground, then Sans released the tension in his arm and fell to his knees, panting.

Papyrus, thinking that Sans had been hurt, ran over to his brother. “Sas! You okay?!”

“Yeah,” Sans said, breathing heavily. “That just...wow, that takes a lot out of you.”

He rummaged in his pocket for the dried fruit and shoved an apple piece in his mouth.

“You ok?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in worry.

Papyrus nodded. “M’fine. Dint hurt at all.”

“Good,” Sans said, regaining his breath.

“Felt like my soul got grabbed,” Papyrus said, rubbing his chest. “Like when you hold my hand.”

“Heh, yeah,” Sans laughed softly, recalling the times his parents had used the blue soul magic on his mischievous self. “Yeah, it does feel like that.”

“Wan try again?” Papyrus asked.

Sans swallowed the dried apple. “Sure. If you don’t mind.”

“No, don’t mind, s’fun!” Papyrus cried as he ran back to his position.

Sans practiced a few more times, each one rising Papyrus just a bit higher, and was even able to move him to the side as well. Soon his arm was beginning to hurt with the intense strain, but he was nevertheless pleased with how much he was progressing.

“Thanks for helping me, Pap,” Sans said, chewing on a dried cherry to refill his magic and help with his pain.

“You welcome, Sas,” Papyrus exclaimed, his eyes shut in a wide smile.

Sans swung his bent arm in slow circles to stretch it out. “Want to hit some more targets before we head home?”

Papyrus jumped up and down in glee. “Yeah!”

Sans built up a few more sets of snow targets, which Papyrus promptly attacked and demolished, then they headed back to the shelter to prepare dinner. They left behind a battlefield of snow carnage, which the winds had no problem whisking away to join the snowdrifts against the rocky walls.

Sans groaned as his foot squelched ankle-deep in a pile of liquefied decomposition. As he went to the edge of the mound and stuck his foot into the running waters to wash it off, he was, once again, extremely glad that he hadn't worn his shoes to this putrid wasteland.

As much as he despised the place, it was the better option for obtaining wood. The more he thought about taking the wood from the torches on the path leading to the cavern, the more he was convinced it would alert the other monsters that someone was outside of the cavern destroying torches.

So here he was, walking through the rancid, soggy mounds gathering wood—the “better” option.

Once his foot was sufficiently clean, he pulled it from the water and shook it off. He readjusted the piece of cloth he had tied around his face to cover his nose and mouth to help with the stench. Unfortunately, the pungent odor was still able to seep through the fabric, causing Sans to cringe in disgust with each powerful whiff.

Sighing, he returned to his task of looking for usable wood. Much of the wood had been adjacent to other decaying matter, and had itself become rotten. The last thing Sans wanted to do was stink up the shelter with putrid wood, so any wood that felt soft or squishy was immediately discarded.

He had to admit—there were several interesting things that had washed up on the numerous mounds poking up through the waters. The last time he was here, he had been in a panic searching for food to heal his brother. But now that he was rummaging through the refuse without the urgency, he was able to stop and look through the piles more carefully.

Sans hadn't taken his haversack—he did not want to ruin the bag with the filth that was surrounding this place and the things within it—so he wasn't able to take anything other than wood. The only problem was that the condition of everything found on the mounds was pretty much putrid. It looked as though the mounds had amassed over decades, maybe even centuries, with newer items washing up over the old.

One thing he definitely noticed was that the water level was rising. When he had first arrived, he saw that the bone bridges Papyrus had created were inches underwater. It hadn't even been that long since he was last here, so he was stunned. It made him wonder how deep the bottom of the watery lake was, and how long the piles of rubbish had been growing.

Another thing he noticed during his more relaxed time down in the depths was that the waterfalls frequently sent items over their cascades to eventually become part of the mounds. He couldn't help but wonder where the things were coming from.

He sighed—if it wasn't so disgusting to walk and breathe through, he would actually enjoy sifting through the refuse, as he might find some extremely helpful items. He thought again of the rising water levels, and wondered if it would rise enough to wash away the decomposing organic matter.

An idea hit him, but he wanted to test it first. He had come across a bag of rotten turnips that had all but liquified on the other side of the mound. He returned to it and rolled it over the edge of the tiny island and watched it sink into the depths. He grinned under the cloth covering his face. _He_ could help get rid of the rotting items while the water levels rose to cover the rest. Then everything that washed up wouldn't be ruined by the decay, and would actually be salvageable. Eventually that might even eradicate the stench that hung upon the air like a thick fog.

It was an intriguing—albeit time-consuming—plan. One that he would have to work on later, for today was dedicated to finding wood and only wood. He put the idea in the back of his mind to consider another time, and returned to the task at hand.

He glanced over and saw a broken crate through the blue-white light of the numerous blue bones he had created to illuminate the darkness. He picked up the crate and inspected it, and was relieved to see that it was in good condition, despite having been cracked open.

Sans transported to the top, where the waterfalls cascaded over the edge, and pulled down the cloth to take a deep breath of fresh air.

He had created a bone fence in one of the waterways where he had thrown other pieces of wood to wash away any remaining filth from them. The bones came up right before the edge of the waterfall, catching the wood like a net. He tossed the crate in with the other wood he had collected, and watched as they all tumbled and clanked loudly against the bones as the current pushed them into it.

Satisfied with the amount of wood, and not exactly thrilled about going back down, he started fishing out some of the pieces that had been washing the longest. He transported to the shelter, his arms filled with dripping wood.

“Ok, Pap,” he said, dropping them onto the floor. “How are these?”

Papyrus came over and stood over the wood. He breathed in a deep sniff through his nose. Then he made a few smaller sniffs, concentrating on a particular broken plank.

His nose wrinkled. “Ew. Dis one _stinky!”_

“Ok,” Sans nodded, pulling the offending wood to the side. “The rest ok?”

Papyrus gave another sniff test. “Yeah, dey okay. No bad smells.”

“Good,” Sans grinned, picking up the bad plank. “Ok, be right back.”

He was back at the waterway. He went near the edge and tossed the wood out into space, knowing it would eventually end up on one of the mounds far, far below.

Sans took more wood to Papyrus, who he trusted to determine which wood would be clear for burning, since his nose wasn't filled with the stench of the decayed mounds. Eventually, they had a proper wood pile, albeit quite wet, which they brought into the fire room to dry off against one of the walls.

“Well, that was gross,” Sans muttered, pulling the cloth off his face. “But, we've got wood again, so the fire won't go out. And I got to get a better idea of what's down there. It would make great foraging if it wasn't so disgusting.”

Sans went over to the pantry to start preparing dinner when Papyrus rushed in front of him and blocked him. The little skeleton held his arms up, barring his brother from the pantry, as his face was stern.

“No,” Papyrus shook his head. “Sas _stinky!_ No touching food til you wash wif soap an change your cloves!”

“Wh-? I-,” Sans stammered in shock. Then he gave a heaving, groaning sigh. “ _Fine_....”

Sans went into the fire room, changed his shirt and pants, and put his dirty clothes on the floor to wash after dinner. He washed his bones up with soap and water at the washing bucket, rinsed off, and dried with some rough cloth.

Papyrus gave him a sniff test and nodded. “Okay. You clean now.”

Sans, having been cleared for kitchen duty by the authority of cleanliness, shook his head at his little brother as he grinned. Then he went to prepare dinner with Papyrus.


	33. Chapter 33

Sans walked down the road swiftly, the haversack on his back weighing little compared to moments ago, when it had been stuffed with the mushrooms he had just donated. Now he was off to do their weekly food shopping, and to let Ashen know how much he and his brother were enjoying the blanket.

He chuckled to himself, recalling when he was placing the paper bag of compost in the cart outside the domed building. A mother with her little girl was walking by and had caught a whiff of the compost.

“Mommy!” the girl had exclaimed. “Dat cart stinks!”

 _You think that smells bad?_ Sans had thought to himself as he grinned. _I could show you somewhere that would make this cart smell like it was carrying roses!_

Sans smiled to himself as he rounded a street corner, then stopped dead, a sharp gasp cutting through his throat.

In the distance was a monster walking up the street with his back facing Sans. He was wearing a burgundy coat, but his head and hands were bone white— _skeleton_ bone white.

_Daddy...?_

Sans couldn't believe it—all the other times he had spotted someone who he thought might be their father had been out of the corner of his eye or a flash of white in the crowd. But he was looking _right at_ the monster, and there was no mistaking that the back of his head and his hands appeared skeletal. He started walking after the monster slowly, trying to be sure, but he was too far away to be certain. He picked up his pace faster as the monster's stride was brisk. It took all Sans' self-control not to shout out to him.

The monster went down an empty side street, and Sans rushed to follow. He could feel the excitement rising in his chest—after all this time of searching, had he finally found their father?

At last the monster stopped at a building near the end of the street, having reached his apparent destination. He turned, placing his white hand on the doorknob, and Sans could see his face from the side.

Sans came to a halt, his soul shattering in his ribcage.

The monster had a long snout-like face with large eyes and a jagged mouth. He wasn't a skeleton, nor was he their father.

Sans felt tears well up in his eyes as the utter disappointment cut through his soul like a hot knife. He knew he hadn't been sure, but part of him felt absolutely convinced that it was indeed their father. The realization that he had been wrong crushed him like a dead, fallen leaf.

He shut his eyes tight, and gave a small, pained whine as he turned to go back the way he had come.

Sans immediately bumped into another monster, who had been walking down the side street rapidly behind him.

“Hey!” the monster shouted angrily. “Watch where you're going, you idiot!”

Sans blinked at him as he rubbed his bruised shoulder. The monster was a large, green cat, and had to be in his late teens. He was accompanied by a raccoon and a purple bird, both around the same age and wearing the same angry expressions as their friend.

“I-I'm so sorry,” Sans stammered an apology. “I didn't mean to—are you all right?”

The cat's eyes widened as he looked at Sans. Sans was suddenly aware that his hood, which he always kept up when he was in the city, had slipped back off his head in the collision. The cat bared his fangs, his short muzzle wrinkled in a snarl.

“You're one of _them!”_ the cat spat with disgust.

“One of—” Sans went to ask, but was interrupted when the cat grabbed him by his jacket and shoved him backwards, roughly, until he was slammed against a brick building.

Sans cried out in pain, wincing. His empty bag did little to cushion him from the forceful impact. The cat brought his snarling face close to Sans'.

“You're one of those skeletal traitors,” he hissed dangerously.

“Traitors?” Sans was thoroughly confused and terrified. All three monsters were far bigger than he was.

The cat swiped at Sans' face, clawing at his skull. Sans cried out again, shutting his eyes in pain.

“Your kind, siding with the humans,” the feline growled. “How _dare_ you come into this city after what you freaks have done.”

“Sided with the humans?!” Sans repeated, completely stunned. “The humans attacked _us!”_

“ _Liar!”_ the cat pulled Sans towards him to slam him hard against the wall again to punctuate his word. Sans hit the back of his skull against the wall with another cry of pain as his neck snapped back.

The cat let go of him and walked away. Sans fell to his hands and knees, breathing heavily and whining as he clutched the back of his skull. He thought the cat was finally leaving him alone, until he heard him speak to his cohorts.

“Hold him.”

Sans' arms were immediately grabbed by the raccoon and the bird. They yanked him up and pinned him to the building, holding his shoulders back with one hand and his arms outstretched against the wall with the other. Sans stood helpless, his body held against the wall like a T, as the cat stood in front of him, jabbing a claw in his direction.

“Your kind abandoned us,” the cat hissed angrily. “When the monsters were fighting for our lives, you skeletons joined them, helped them win against us, and are living free out there while what's left of us are trapped in this hole for the rest of our lives!”

Sans shook his head adamantly. “No! That's not true! My Mommy was in the Royal Guard. I saw them get attacked by the humans! She died fighting the humans, so did the other skele—”

“ _Shut up!”_ the feline yowled, his fangs flashing. “My Dad was killed because your kind went to join the humans! We should have known! You freaks even _look_ like 'em! You're not monsters at all! _You're humans without flesh!”_

“N-no!” Sans exclaimed in fear. “We're monsters just like you! We would _never_ side with the humans!”

“Oh, is that so?” he spat with contempt. “Then why aren't there any skeletons here with us in the city?”

Sans gasped. No skeletons in the city—at all? Not even—?

The cat scoffed at Sans' silence. “Got nothing to say about that, do ya? Well, you're the only skeleton in the city, but not for long. I'm going to make sure this city _remains_ skeleton-free.”

He cracked his paws, then rushed at Sans, punching him hard in the spine under his ribcage as the cat's friends held him up, laughing. Sans cried out, feeling and hearing the crack of bone. The pain was searing, but Sans could do nothing.

The cat continued punching Sans in his spine as Sans begged him to stop between gasping cries. Then the feline started striking him hard in the face, Sans' head whipping side to side as the cat punched him in his cheekbones.

Sans was sobbing, as the agony of his injured bones was becoming unbearable.

“Help!” Sans cried out desperately. “Someone! Please help me!”

But nobody came.

The side street—unlike the main streets Sans usually kept to—was empty. He hoped the monster he had mistaken for his father would hear his cries and save him. He hoped _anyone_ would hear him shouting and crying out in pain, and come rushing to rescue him from his tormentors. But he was alone, outnumbered, and unable to defend himself as he was repeatedly beaten by the vicious feline.

“Time to end this.”

Sans felt the chill of terror run down his fractured spine. This cat was going to kill him, and there was nothing he could do to protect himself. He couldn't even cast magic since his left hand was held down against the wall. If he took a step forward, he'd take the two monsters holding him down with him. He was in danger, and he couldn't escape or stop it.

For an instant, he thought of Papyrus, waiting for him in the shelter. He would have no idea what had happened to him. He'd be all alone....

The cat grabbed Sans by his clavicle and yanked him forward.

“Time to see how breakable you freaks really are!” the cat growled as he turned Sans to face the brick wall.

Sans was having a hard time standing without the raccoon and bird holding him up. The cat grasped his bag and shoved Sans hard into the wall. The force cracked his skull at his forehead and chin. He cried out in excruciating pain.

“ _Stop!”_ he shouted at the top of his lungs. _“Someone! Anyone! Please help me!”_

The ferocious feline pulled Sans back a few feet and rammed him into the wall again. Sans felt one of his teeth shatter and his cheekbone crack as he cried helplessly.

The cat continued slamming Sans into the wall like a battering ram, bringing him back and charging forward with all his strength, over and over, as Sans begged desperately to be spared.

Down at the end of the side street, a dog had heard Sans' cries from the main road. He looked down, saw what was happening and ran off quickly.

Sans didn't know how much longer he would last. Each time he was thrust into the wall, excruciating pain would inflict him like fire. The cat showed no signs of tiring, and with the repeated vicious battering, it was only a matter of time before Sans started dusting off. He knew his HP must be plummeting.

“ _Hey! Stop!”_

The cat ceased after one last drive into the wall and dropped Sans' body like a stone, startled by the sudden shout. Sans, delirious with pain, turned his head, grateful for the rescue.

Then he groaned weakly as another wave of fear washed over him.

Three monsters stood at the end of the side street. They were wearing armor and red capes—the Royal Guard.

The cat and his friends stepped away from Sans as he struggled to rise. The cat pointed at Sans and called out to the Guards.

“It's a traitor to the throne! A traitor to monster-kind! Get him!”

Sans could hear the Guards talking amongst themselves as he got to his feet shakily, using the wall to support himself.

“Is that—?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“That's a skeleton, all right.”

They started running down the street towards Sans.

He had to get out of there. Now. Never mind being caught because he was a child without a parent—he was a skeleton who was believed to be on the humans' side. Forget being put in an orphanage, the Guards had swords and would finish what the cat had started.

Terror urged Sans to move, but his injuries made it difficult for him. The teenagers saw that Sans was trying to escape and rushed at him.

“You there! Get away from that skeleton!”

The three teenagers backed even further away, laughing.

“You're in for it now, freak,” the cat hissed, his tone dripping with malice. “They're going to run you right through with their swords, and we'll get to watch. Make sure you scream nice and loud—maybe your kind will hear you die from outside the mountain when you do.”

Sans limped alongside the building, struggling to slip down between it and the adjacent building. He could hear the metallic tramping of the approaching Guards and started to panic.

His knees buckled as he reached the end of the building. He reached out and grasped the corner of the brick wall and squeezed into the alley between buildings as he heard one of the Guards shout after him.

“Stop! Come back here!”

The Guards reached the alley seconds after Sans turned down it, and halted in confusion.

The alley was empty. Somehow, the little skeleton had completely vanished.

One of the Guards scratched his head. “H-how? He was _just_ there!”

“There's nowhere he could have gone! This alley's got no exits or anything....”

The third Guard sighed. “There's nothing we can do now except let the Captain know that we may have spotted one of the two missing skeleton children.”

“At least their father will be glad for the news. Captain said he's given up hope he'll ever find them. Poor guy....”

The Guards turned from the alleyway and faced the teenagers, who were looking quite proud of themselves at what they had done.

One of the Guards unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the three hoodlums. “You! You're all under arrest for assault and attacking an innocent child!”

The three gasped in shock. The cat's ears pinned back as he held out his paws in disbelief.

“Arrest?” he whined. “But-but we just caught that traitor to—”

“ _That,”_ the Guard roared lividly, “is a terrible accusation that is nothing more than a fear-mongering rumor! All three of us have fought alongside skeletons for decades! Every single one of them would have _died_ before siding with humans. The entire Skeletal Unit was decimated because they had been sent— _by the King himself—_ to search for humans. If it hadn't been for their sacrifice, more monsters would have died. _You_ would have died if they hadn't given their lives for you! How _dare_ you attack a child based on those blatant lies! You're all coming with us— _now!_ ”

The three teenagers were led off with their hands in the air and their heads hung in humiliation, whimpering and sobbing as three swordpoints urged them to march.

Sans appeared in the main room of the shelter while Papyrus was on his bed, playing with Teddy. He immediately collapsed to the ground with an anguished sob.

“Sas!” Papyrus cried out, scrambling out of the bed to be at his brother's side.

Sans struggled to remain conscious, the pain overwhelming him. “P-Pap...h-help m-me....”

Papyrus whimpered as he knelt beside Sans. He rolled his brother over onto his back, and gasped when he saw his skull.

It was just like before, when Sans had hit the barrier—deep cracks in his skull and missing bits of bone. There were also thin claw marks that ran across his face—had this not been an accident like last time?

Papyrus held his brother's skull in his hands, which then glowed green as he healed him.

“Sas...,” Papyrus breathed softly. “Wha happened...?”

“I-I...,” Sans had difficulty answering between the pain making it difficult to focus and from the distress of what he had just endured. “I was _attacked_....”

He broke into tears, clutching at his spine, which was causing him excruciating pain.

Papyrus gasped sharply. His brother had been attacked? Where? Were there humans in the mountain after all?

Sans continued sobbing as he showed his brother where he had been hurt, and Papyrus reformed his brother's spine, ribs, neck, and clavicle. Once he had finished healing all the fractures, breaks, and cracks, Papyrus rushed up to get food to help Sans with his pain.

Sans took the pear his brother had given him and ate it as he cried bitterly, telling Papyrus what had happened to him. As his brother wept, Papyrus could only sit with his mouth agape, horrified at what the teenagers had done to him. Papyrus hugged his brother, and Sans wept into his shoulder.

“Th-the worst p-part,” he stammered through sobs. “Is th-that they said...that...that there's no skeletons in the city.”

He cried, his teeth clenched and eyes shut tight as the emotional anguish tore at him, then continued.

“ _That means Daddy's not in there!”_

He turned onto his stomach, weeping bitterly into the snowy floor as he laid his forehead on his folded arms. Papyrus sat there, eyes wide as he processed the statement. Then tears started to fall from his eyes as he leaned down and cried on his brother's shoulder blade.

The two brothers wept together on the floor, their hopes of finding their father shattered by the revelation Sans' assailant had made. The pain the cat had inflicted on Sans' body was nothing compared to the anguish in their souls at the thought that their father was gone forever.


	34. Chapter 34

Sans sat in the bed, recovering from his injuries at Papyrus' urgings. Papyrus laid next to his brother, fully intending on watching over him, but had fallen fast asleep. He was exhausted from crying most of the afternoon with Sans over their father and from his magical exertion in healing his brother.

Sans stared up at the ceiling, completely discouraged and devastated by the attack. The incident played out over and over again in his mind, and he winced and whimpered with every blow, every swipe, and every ram into the wall that flashed in front of him.

Even the Royal Guard had chased after him. What if he hadn't been able to get away? What if they had struck him down with their swords, just because he was a skeleton?

Papyrus.... Papyrus would have been all alone—no mother, no father, and no brother.

_No father._ There were no skeletons in the city, which meant their father wasn't amongst the thousands of monsters dwelling in the cavern. Between the snowy valley and the darkened area, he had seen no sign of any monster outside of the purple cavern, aside from the monthly tree harvest just outside the doors. It appeared that every surviving monster—aside from him and his brother—was living within those walls.

Sans covered his eyes with his arms as fresh tears threatened to seep out.

_No,_ he thought. _I refuse to believe that. If he was truly dead, then why do I still feel him in my soul?_

After his mother died, he had felt her absence from his soul. He wasn't feeling that with his father—he could still sense him, deep inside himself. So he couldn't be dead.

_Then why aren't there any skeletons in the city?_ He thought. _If Daddy's there, then why did he say there were no skeletons?_

Sans' teeth gnashed at the thought of that horrific cat. How dare he say those awful things about his kind. His mother and her friends all died because they were fighting those evil humans. He had watched many of them fall—including his mother—with his own eyes. They died to protect the monsters on the other side of the mountain.

_If that jerk lied about Mommy and the others, then...maybe he was lying about there being no skeletons in the city.._

Sans slid his arms off his face, letting them fall onto the bed as he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling once more. Why _should_ he believe a single word his attacker had said?

That had to be it. Why else would he still feel his father in his soul?

_Yeah...yeah! Daddy can't be dead, he_ has _to still be alive. That cat was just lying about everything._

Sans felt better, convinced that every word the violent cat had uttered had been a complete falsehood. The spark of hope of finding their father rekindled slightly.

He would confirm it with Ashen when he saw her next. Surely she would know if there were skeletons in the city, right?

_Wait,_ Sans gasped as he felt the soft blanket under his hands. _Ashen_ knew _I was a skeleton. If there were no other skeletons in the city, wouldn't she have asked me about that? Or mentioned that it was strange seeing a skeleton when there aren't supposed to be any? And she didn't seem to mind that I was a skeleton, so not everyone hates us and thinks we're 'traitors to monster-kind'._

Sans was feeling better the more he thought about it. He never should have let that cruel feline's taunting get to him. The cat had already injured his body terribly, why let him continue hurting him even after his bones were healed?

A slow smile crept on Sans' face. That cat was wrong. Their father was alive. And he would find him someday.

Sans shut his eyes, pulled the blanket up higher over himself and his brother, and drifted off to sleep, excited to tell Papyrus the good news when he woke up.

Sans was running down a long, narrow road lined with countless, identical purple brick buildings, his soul gripped with utter terror. No matter how fast he sprinted, he couldn't get to the end of the street. He panted heavily, each breath sending a sharp pain through his lungs. His fearful whimpers and rapid footfalls echoed off the buildings as he whipped his head left and right for some way to escape.

Suddenly, the green cat was in front of him, but he was much larger, and far more terrifying. He filled the narrow road with his huge form, muscles bulging like an Aaron. His features were hidden as he was cast in a shadow—except for his eyes. They were glowing red like burning lava, narrowed with savage malevolence.

“You're one of _them!”_

His voice didn't come from his mouth, but from all around, as if his voice was in Sans' own head.

Sans skidded to a halt with a sharp gasp, slipping on the brick road and sliding towards the giant feline. He twisted himself around and desperately tried to get up to return the way he had come, but it was too late.

The large hands of the cat grasped Sans, his claws tearing through his clothes as they pierced into his bones.

Sans shut his eyes tightly, crying out loudly in pain.

The cat threw Sans against one of the buildings, and the back of his skull cracked open as it hit the wall forcefully. The pain was blinding.

“Hold him.”

Again, the booming voice filled the air, magnified in volume.

Vines sprung out from the wall of the building, encircling Sans' wrists and neck, pulling tightly as he was pinned to the wall. Sans struggled to breathe and move his left palm forward, but he was trapped.

The cat struck Sans' spine with such power that he immediately cracked his lumbar vertebrae. Sans screamed out in agony, pleading with his attacker as he was punched over and over.

“Please! _AAGH!!!_ Stop, please! _AAUUGH!!!_ Stop.... _AAGHH!!!_ please.... _AAAAUGH!!!_ ...p-please.... _AAAUUUGH!!!”_

Tears streamed down his face as each blow crushed his spine more and more. The pain coursed through his body like hot, liquid metal.

Sans was sobbing uncontrollably, which made the cat laugh with sick pleasure.

With a final blow, the vicious feline severed Sans' spine. Sans cried out with an ear-splitting screech as his lumbar vertebrae shattered and his pelvis fell away from his torso.

Sans looked in horror through his tears and the pain as his pelvis and legs crumpled to the side under his suspended upper half, laid on the ground lifeless for a moment, then dusted off. A fear like none he had ever felt gripped his soul with the crushing realization that he was going to die.

“Time to end this.”

The voice filled Sans' head once more, echoing through his skull.

The giant cat grabbed Sans' collarbone and the vines retreated as he ripped him off the wall. He clutched Sans by the end of his spine and his jacket just under his shoulder blades and held him up, facing the wall.

Sans panicked, knowing what was coming. He held his arms over his face, begging with the cruel feline weakly, his voice whimpering gasps.

“...no.... p-please.... please d-don't.... _please_....”

Sans heard the cat's deep, sinister laugh all around him. Then, with great speed, he was slammed into the brick wall.

With a sickening crunch, Sans' skull and ribs cracked. His arms, which he had held up to protect himself, shattered completely at the elbows and fell to the ground. His head lolled to the side, and he was now too weak to scream or cry.

The cat took several paces backwards, then rammed Sans back into the building.

Pieces of Sans' skull and ribcage fell and hit the floor with light clatters. He was barely conscious, barely able to see, but was completely aware of all that was happening to him.

His attacker stepped back again, this time using the hand that held his jacket to grasp the back of his head so that it remained upwards. He laughed again as he tilted Sans' skull forward so that it would receive the brunt of what was to come. He then rammed Sans again with breakneck speed.

Sans' skull split completely. The right side of his head fell away, hitting the brick road and smashing like a piece of pottery.

“Stop!”

Sans turned what remained of his head weakly to see a huge army of Royal Guards approaching.

The cat instantly dropped Sans like a stone, and he fell onto his ribcage, the last remaining ribs breaking away. He feebly lifted his head, his left eye barely open as he watched a Guard stand over him.

“We'll take it from here.”

Sans heard the _shink_ of metal and a dull whipping sound just before the _shunk_ of blade slicing through bone as the Guard decapitated Sans with his sword.

Sans' halved skull fell onto its gaping side, his mouth open in a pained scream—but making no sound—as the Guard lifted his armored foot to crush his head in. For a split second, he saw the foot rushing down on him, then everything went dark.

Sans sat straight up in the bed, a blood-curdling scream tearing through his throat as he threw his arms over his head. His eyes were shut firmly, unable to open.

Papyrus woke with a start, gasping and looking around frantically. He whimpered in fear, then saw his brother. His arms were wrapped around his head tightly, and he was sobbing.

“ _Stop! Don't crush me! No!”_ he cried out, his pleading voice high-pitched.

Papyrus shook Sans' hip. “Sas! _Sas!_ Wha happened?! Whas wrong?!”

Sans flinched at Papyrus' touch, his arms whipping down to protect his spine.

“ _No! Please! Don't!”_

Papyrus was terrified. What had happened to his brother?

“Sas! _Sas!!!”_ he shouted, trying to get his brother's attention.

Sans heard Papyrus' voice and gasped, his tear-filled eyes finally snapping open. He panted for breath as his eyes darted around him, taking in his surroundings.

Papyrus climbed into his lap and held his brother's head in his hands, tilting it down to look him in the eye. Tears streamed from Sans' eyes and sweat poured down his temples as he struggled to catch his breath.

Sans was looking at Papyrus, but didn't see him. All he could see was his crushed body, his lost bones dusting away, and the red, glowing eyes of the cat.

Papyrus saw that his brother's eyes weren't focusing on the present, so he gave Sans' head a gentle shake as he called out his name once again.

“ _Sas!!!”_

Sans' breath caught in the back of his throat as he heard Papyrus again. He blinked rapidly, then looked into his brother's eyes.

“P-Pap...?” his whisper was tinged with a whine.

Papyrus' eyebrows were raised in concern, not knowing if Sans had been hurt.

“Wha happened, Sas...?” he asked softly, his lower lip quivering.

Sans didn't answer. Instead, he blinked again, then brought his hands quickly to his lumbar vertebrae—they were all intact. His hands flew to his pelvis, then his legs, then flung up to his ribs, and, finally, the right side of his skull. After checking to make sure none of his bones had fallen away, he breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“It was just a nightmare,” he panted, covering his eyes with his hands, as if trying to blot out the memory of what he'd just seen.

Papyrus whimpered again. “Sas have scary nighmare?”

Sans pulled his hands away from his eyes, throwing his arms around his brother. He hugged him, crying hard into his shoulder.

“Oh, Pap,” he wept. “It was terrible....”

Papyrus nestled his cheekbone into the side of Sans' head as he rubbed his brother's back gently.

“Is okay, Sas,” he whispered, soothingly “I'm here. Nighmare over now. You here in bed wif me, an we safe here. You safe now. No more scary fings.”

Sans hugged his brother tightly, rocking as he cried his eyes out. Papyrus kept whispering calming, encouraging things into his ear in an effort to ease his suffering.

Papyrus sat in Sans' normal seat at the table as he ate the dinner he prepared by himself so that he could keep an eye on his brother. Sans was curled up in the bed on his left side facing the wall, with his back to Papyrus. Every few moments he would whimper and flinch in his sleep.

Papyrus was worried about Sans—he hadn't been sleeping much the last couple days, ever since he was attacked. When he _did_ sleep, it wasn't for long, and it sounded tortured. He kept waking up screaming and crying, checking to make sure his bones were still there.

Sans hadn't told Papyrus the details about his nightmares, only that it was about the attack. He didn't think Papyrus should have to hear the grisly events that had transpired in his mind as if they were real.

Papyrus whimpered as he munched on a celery stalk. Sans hadn't eaten since the pear he had had after Papyrus healed his injuries. Papyrus begged him to eat, but he would just roll over in the bed, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder, and say he wasn't hungry.

Since Sans hadn't gotten out of bed, Papyrus had to make do with the food that was within his reach—the fruits and vegetables in the dug-in bowl on the floor. With the glass jars on the shelf, he didn't want to chance knocking down the food and accidentally breaking one. And the mushroom basket had been emptied the day Sans went to the cavern, so Papyrus didn't have any to roast for himself. Fortunately, there were enough fruits and vegetables to keep his hunger at bay, even though they were running quite low.

Sans recoiled in the bed with a sob as he murmured in his sleep. “...please.... don't....”

Papyrus cringed sympathetically. He knew how terrible it was to have recurring nightmares, as he had gone through them himself after Sans had come home badly injured and near death. He sighed sadly, wishing there was something he could do to help his brother. His lower lip quivered as another whine escaped Sans' throat.

Papyrus ate quietly, but not in peace. His soul was troubled as he sat helplessly watching his brother suffer while he slept, knowing that at any moment, he would wake up once again, screaming for his attacker to stop.

Sans stared at the wall blearily. He had just calmed down from waking up from another nightmare. He was thoroughly exhausted, but didn't want to shut his eyes. If he closed them, that meant he would fall asleep, and if he fell asleep, he would be attacked again.

But he was so tired, and he _needed_ sleep. He still had to regain his lost HP, as the attack had brought him down to 41 HP. He couldn't leave the shelter until he was well over 100 HP, and even then, that was a risk. He was almost at 200 HP when he had been assailed, so he had lost a great deal from his attack.

He knew he had to get to the market soon, since they were already low on food when he had gone that day, but part of him never wanted to go back. He was terrified of running into that cat and his friends, or the Royal Guard. And now that he knew skeletons were hated by the other monsters, he was scared that anyone might see him and try to kill him.

He stifled a sob and curled himself up tighter. He was just starting to feel safer about his trips into the city, and now he had a whole new reason to be fearful of being caught.

Why couldn't things just be normal for them? Why did they have to hide outside the cavern in a tiny shelter made of snow, boulders, and bones? Why couldn't he just go to the market like a normal monster, unafraid of being caught because of his age, and now, his species? Why did everything have to be so very hard for him and his brother?

Tears trickled down his face. He sniffled softly, hoping that Papyrus wouldn't hear and worry about him. He'd already disturbed him by waking up, screaming, from his constant nightmares. Papyrus didn't need to hear him crying as well.

He was so tired. His eyes stung with tears and exhaustion, his headache was splitting, just as his skull did in his dreams. He kept staring at the wall, refusing to close his eyes. If he just concentrated on that one spot, he wouldn't fall asleep.

He blinked slowly. _I don't want to go through it anymore._

The snowy wall was so white, it hurt his eyes.

He blinked again. _I just...need to keep...my eyes open...._

Was he even looking at the wall, or was it a bright white void?

He went to blink again, but when his eyes shut, they would not open. Sleep overcame the exhausted skeleton, as he was engulfed in the heavy darkness of slumber.

Sans was running down a long, narrow road, his soul gripped with utter terror....


	35. Chapter 35

Sans was sitting, holding his head in his hands as he stared at the snowy table between his resting elbows. His eyes were sore from lack of restful sleep and constant crying, but he couldn't bring himself to shut them. He exhaled with a sigh every few breaths.

Papyrus was sat across from him, eating the last of the cereal—dry, for the milk had long been gone—and toast that Sans had gotten down for him. He kept glancing up at his brother, full of concern, but could do nothing to help him. Between bites, a sigh of helplessness and worry would escape his lungs.

Sans was full of dread—they were out of food, and he _had_ to go to the market to restock their pantry, or Papyrus would starve. He himself had barely eaten the last week, his appetite completely bereft, eating only a few bites here and there to appease his brother's pleading.

He had checked his HP that morning before Papyrus' breakfast, and wasn't surprised to see that it was still far under 100 HP. If he was attacked again, he would surely die. That was certain.

But he couldn't wait any longer. He was barely gaining any extra HP with his sleep, constantly broken by the relentless nightmares. Although they had come to be predictable and repetitive, they still woke him up violently. He was no longer checking to see if his bones were intact, but the jarring start at the end of the nightmares continued to rob his lungs of all breath.

He was becoming accustomed to the events that played out in his mind when his eyes shut, and he _hated_ that. Nothing about the attack was normal, so he despised that the nightmares had slowly become a new normal for him.

He heaved a heavy sigh. He was terrified to go, but he had to for Papyrus' sake. But if he _were_ attacked, Papyrus would be all alone.

The thought forced a stifled sob up Sans' throat.

He shook his head. He couldn't sit here all day—there wasn't enough for dinner for his brother, so he had to go.

He stood up from the table and went over to the coat hooks. As he put on his jacket, he thought over what he would be taking.

They had no mushrooms, since Sans hadn't left the shelter since the attack, so there was none for him to donate. Even if they had a full basket, he wouldn't take them anyway—he wanted to limit the amount of streets he went down to lessen the chances that he'd be seen by the teenagers or the Royal Guard.

He also wouldn't be going to the jeweler this time. He had plenty of gold left, and although he knew the sapphire monster adored his visits because it meant more lucent gems for her creations, he wanted to keep this trip as brief as possible. He wanted to be in and out before he was seen by anyone who might recognize him as a skeleton.

Sans went through his mental list of non-food supplies. The items he had intended to get when he was on his way to the market before the attack were no longer important to him, so he decided to stick to food alone.

And Ashen. He definitely wanted to see his dear friend Ashen. He had so many questions for her, so many things to ask about his kind, if she'd seen any other skeletons other than himself, and a whole host of other queries that had bogged down his mind during his waking hours.

He sighed and reached for his haversack. He jolted, his breath trapped in his lungs as his eyes widened.

There were several holes punctured in his bag, torn by sharp claws where the cat had gripped it so that he could ram Sans into the brick wall.

The sight of it brought a fresh wave of memories, crashing over him relentlessly. He shut his eyes tight and grasped the sides of his skull, falling to his knees as he started whimpering.

Papyrus put down his spoon and bowl immediately and rushed to his brother's side. He wrapped his arms around Sans as his brother embraced him to cry upon his shoulder.

“Sas, you don hafta go if you don wanna,” he whispered soothingly as he rubbed Sans' back gently. “Youkin stay here.”

“P-Pap,” Sans wept. “I-I don't.... _I don't want to die_....”

Papyrus hugged his brother tighter. He didn't want his brother to die either, but it also tore him up that Sans had been tormented and suffering even while he was safe in the shelter. It saddened him that he couldn't just heal this fear away from Sans like he could heal his bones.

“Sas...,” he whispered, rubbing his cheekbone against his brother's. “Member when I was ascared of funderstorms?”

Sans opened his eyes and stopped crying, distracted by the question.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, his chin still on his brother's shoulder. “You were _terrified._ You'd run and hide under my bed every time you heard a rumble. You'd cry your eyes out, even though I crawled under and stayed with you.”

Papyrus pulled back to look Sans in the eyes. “Member how I stopped being ascared?”

Sans looked away, wiping his eyes, as he tried to recall. “Didn't.... Didn't Daddy sit with you in his lap in front of the window during a storm?”

“Mmhmm,” Papyrus nodded. “Dere was a rumbly, an I started cryin, an was runnin to da bed to hide. Daddy caught me runnin, scoop me up like dis— _VOOP!_ —an holded me in his arms. Daddy said, 'les watch funderstorm togevur,' an I scream _'No!'_ an Daddy said, 'you be okay, I protec you an sit wif you.' So Daddy sat onna floor infrona da winnow inna livinroom an put me in his lap. I was ascared, but Daddy dere, so felt lil better. Den.... _FOOM!_ Big flasha light! _BOOM! CWASH!_ Big, _big_ rumbly! I cried an screamed, wanna hide, but Daddy hugged my tummy, so I stayed, cuz Daddy not ascared an Daddy protec me. Anovur one happen, an dis time, I only ascared a lil bit. Den anovur, an I ascared just a tiny bit. Den anovur, an I ascared, but watch da light an hear da rumbly, an I shake a lil bit, but not ascared like before.”

Sans knelt there, smiling softly at his brother's retelling. He sighed, shutting his eyes, as his smile died off his face.

“But, Pap,” Sans said, opening his eyes, his eyebrows lifted sadly. “That was just a thunderstorm. And Daddy was there with you—he's not with me to go to the market and protect me. It's different....”

Papyrus sat on the floor in front of his brother and looked up at him. “Is different but same, kinda.”

Sans lowered one eyebrow, the other still raised in confusion. “What?”

Papyrus explained gently. “Daddy said, after funderstorm, dat dey are really dangerous if you outside. Youkin get really hurt by dem. But dey don hurt when being safe. He say if outside, hear rumbly, go home _now!_ He say, don watch outside, s'not safe. Watch inside, in safe home.”

Sans tilted his head. “So how is that the same?”

“Cuz,” Papyrus said, grabbing his brother's hands to hold them. “You no attacked til you go down street wif no ovur mosters. You alone. So, don be alone. Be in street wif alla mosters like before.”

Sans winced, but understood. “Yeah, I.... I never want to be alone like that again....” He looked away, thinking again. “But what if someone spots that I'm a skeleton? What if the whole street full of monsters attacks me?”

“Dey don before,” Papyrus said, giving his brother's hands a gentle squeeze. “You say Ashen know you skeleyton wif your hood on your head, so ovurs must know, too. An you not be attacked by dem.”

Sans made a grumble of agreement. He _had_ been able to walk through the market without incident since the beginning. It was only down that empty side street, which he would never go down as long as he lived, that he met up with someone who hated his kind.

“Sas,” Papyrus said, getting up to hug his brother tightly. “Do what you always do, an you be safe. Don go to strange places. Stay round ovur mosters. You feel in danger, use magic to come home. But go to market, cuz when you come home safe, you see it's okay, an maybe see dat you don have to be ascared anymore, even when you home, like you ascared now. Just like watchin funderstorms.”

Sans hugged his brother tighter, nuzzling against the side of his head with his eyes shut tight.

“When did you get to be so smart, Papyrus?” he whispered with a sigh.

“Is cuz I have da smartest bruver in da whole world,” Papyrus said, giving his brother's head a soft pat.

Sans appeared in the pathway on the edge of the city cavern, near the masonry work area, and immediately wanted to go home.

His legs were shaking, and he whipped around, this way and that, scanning for anyone approaching him. He peered down the familiar alleyway, looking down at the street filled with the usual crowd of monsters.

_This is stupid. This is dumb. I'm going to get caught. I'm going to be beaten again. I'm going to be run through with those swords. I shouldn't be here. I should go home. This is a terrible idea._

Tears fell down his face as his fear gripped his soul tightly. He was trembling worse than when he was here for the very first time. Of course, the worst that would have happened to him back then was that he'd be taken to the orphanage for older kids.

Now his life was in danger.

His brother's need for food outweighed his common sense, so he took a shaky step forward down the alleyway. He took another, hearing his own teeth chatter.

_I just need to get this done, and get home. Just like any other week. Just get there, and be done._

He crept down the alleyway, knees weak and sweat pouring down his skull under his hood. Eventually, he made it to the end, where he hesitated.

Standing with his back against the wall, he shut his eyes and tried to calm himself by taking several deep breaths.

Despite everything that told him to go home, he stepped into the street, mingling in with the monsters who walked around him. A chill ran up his spine, terrified to be around those who might think he was a traitor to their kind.

With his head lowered, he sped through the streets down the route he'd taken so many times to get to the market. It felt like it took hours for him to get there, but the moment he arrived, he headed straight for the bakery.

As he shopped, he kept flinching at every sound, looking around himself, and couldn't stop gasping. He purchased their food quickly, barely saying anything to the shopkeepers—which all three had found odd, since he had always been so polite in the past—then slipped into Ashen's shop.

“Sans?” Ashen called, rising to her feet from her chair and knitting.

Sans looked up, his eyes rising higher than they had since leaving the alleyway. There was something about Ashen's shop that made him feel safer, as if no teenager or Guard could find him here.

Ashen took one look at his face—his sunken eyes, his tear-streaked cheekbones, and his gasping, quivering mouth—and rounded the counter immediately. She knelt down and embraced Sans in her wings, her maternal intuition recognizing that he was suffering deeply.

“Sans,” she whispered into his ear. “I was so worried when I didn't see you last week. But now, I can tell something terrible happened. Are you all right?”

Sans clutched to her, burying his face into her sooty grey feathers and amber dress, and sobbed as he told her about his vicious attack and the subsequent nightmares.

“Oh, Sans, _Sans_...,” she cooed soothingly. “I am so sorry.... That's terrible.... Sans, that awful monster who hurt you—he was wrong. Most monsters don't hate skeletons like he does.”

Sans looked up into her eyes tearfully. “R-really?”

“No, honey,” she whispered, wiping his face with her pinion feathers. “There is a handful of monsters who think that, but only because skeletons are rare down here. So they assume that they abandoned us—fed by that terrible myth that humans and skeleton monsters are related, which also isn't true. The rest of us know skeletons fought hard for us. And the Royal Guard, more than any of the monsters, know how true that is. Sans, I'm so sorry he said that to you, that he hurt you so much....”

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, relieved to hear that the city didn't think his kind were the hated traitors the cat had led him to believe.

Her eyes scanned him concernedly. “Are you all right? Are you still hurt?”

Sans shook his head. “No, my brother has healing magic, and he's great at it. My bones are ok...but....”

His lower lip quivered, and a fresh wave of tears streamed down his face.

“But I keep having these terrible nightmares, and I can't sleep anymore, and I keep waking up and scaring my brother because I cry out, and I keep seeing that cat hurt me, over and over again, and...and....”

Sans buried his face into her again, weeping bitterly. Ashen knelt there, holding him close to her, her heart breaking for the anguish he was in.

“Shh...shh...,” she shushed gently. “It's okay, my little one.... It's okay....”

Once he calmed down, he looked up at her, and she could see how dark the circles were under his tear-soaked eyes.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized through stifled sobs. “It's just... _so scary_ to see it every time I shut my eyes, and I'm just so tired, Ashen.... I'm just _so very tired...._ ”

She wiped his face with her wingtips, nodding softly. “I know, my little one. When I lost my family, I, too, had nightmares every time I slept. And they were _terrible_.”

She gave a shudder that ruffled her feathers. Then she brushed his cheekbones with her primary feathers and tilted her head, giving a warm smile.

“I found some things that helped me, and they might just help you, too,” she said softly.

“Really?” Sans breathed, his eyes growing wide. The thought of escaping the nightmares sent a warm wave of hope through his soul.

Ashen went over to the left side of her shop, poking through her shelves, until she found what she was looking for. She held up a small, cloth pouch, filled with something inside.

“This contains dried lavender flowers,” she said. “There's a monster who makes several of these a week and sells them to me, because there is such a high demand for them. Lavender relaxes and calms you, and when I had my nightmares, I made sure that there were dried lavender sprigs next to by bed every night. You take this bag and put it next to your pillow so that you smell it as you sleep.”

Ashen placed the pouch on the counter, then she went around and behind it, searching for something. She poked her head up, smiling as she held up a tin box.

“This is chamomile tea,” she explained, standing up and placing the tin on the counter. “You drink two or three cups of this a day, and not only will you feel more calm and relaxed, but your sleep will be nothing but restful.”

Sans raised his eyebrows in worry. “Oh, I don't know how to make tea....”

“That's fine,” Ashen answered. “Ask your father to make it for you. Grownups should be the ones making tea, just like all cooking.”

“Oh...y-yeah...,” Sans stammered, his voice low as he averted his eyes. He saw Ashen looking at him, cocking her head slightly, and smiled in what he hoped was a convincing grin. “Yeah, heh, I'll have Daddy make it for me, heh. Of course.”

Ashen's eyebrows creased in sympathy for a moment, then her smile returned.

“Well,” she said. “Just tell your father to boil some water—carefully! Make sure he doesn't get hurt doing so. Tell him that he'll know it's boiled when it bubbles and rolls. Put a scoop of this tea in your teacup—there's a scoop in here already for you—and pour—carefully!—the boiling water into the cup. By the time it cools down enough to drink, it will have steeped long enough.”

Sans nodded, making mental notes as she spoke.

“Now, one last thing,” Ashen said as she rounded the counter again and went to the crates with the books, scrolls, and sheets on top of the large chests.

She sifted through the contents, pulling out books and setting them aside as she explained.

“Just before you go to sleep, you should read. And not just any old book. You will want to read something that will teach you something, make you learn as you read. That way, as you're sleeping, your mind is still figuring it out and going over the things that you just learned before you shut your eyes. That's how I learned to knit! Soon, my nightmares became knit-mares!”

She laughed at her little joke, and Sans couldn't help but snicker as well.

“There,” she said, standing back from the small pile of books she had made. “I don't have many to choose from, and most of these are difficult for someone your age, but see if there's a book here that interests you.”

Sans picked one up after another, considering them. There was a book on proper gardening through all four seasons, one on learning a foreign language he did not recognize, another about the uses for snails, a book about geometric designs, even a book on furniture building.

But it was the next one that caught Sans' eye. On the faded blue cover was an illustration of constellations. The book was called _Natural Science—Physical Science_ , and as he flipped through the pages, he saw that not only did it include astronomy, but also other subjects he had never heard about—physics, earth science, and chemistry. Although he wasn't sure he'd understand the other subjects, the topic of astronomy piqued his interest, especially given how much he loved learning about the stars from his father.

“This one,” Sans whispered, staring at the cover. “I want to read this one.”

Ashen nodded as she smiled, returning the other books back into the crate. “It sounds interesting, Sans. I'm sure you'll learn a lot from it.”

He placed the book up on the counter as Ashen rounded it. “Is there anything else you need?”

Sans thought a moment, then went over to the shelves and chose a small blue teacup with white lines.

“I'm going to need one of these,” he grinned, placing it with the other items.

Ashen smiled. “All right. Now, I'm not charging you for the tea, since that was my own personal supply.”

Sans gasped. “Oh! No, I don't want to take yours!”

She shook her head, laughing slightly. “Sans, I haven't had nightmares for a while, so I don't need it anymore. I'd much rather you have it because you _need_ it. Besides, I have more at home if I need some, this was just the supply I kept here to drink while I ran my shop.”

“Ashen, thank you,” Sans said gratefully.

“Anything to help you through your rough time, my little one,” she said warmly. “And I'm really glad you talked to me about what happened. I would hate to think how awful it would have been for you if you hadn't learned how untrue those things that terrible monster told you were.”

Sans handed over his gold. “I'm glad I did, too.”

Something suddenly nagged the back of his mind.

“Ashen?” he asked quietly. “Have you...ever seen any skeletons down here? I mean, besides me.”

As she looked into his hope-seeking eyes, she felt her smile falter as she hesitated to answer, trying to chose the right words.

“There are thousands of monsters who live with us here in the city,” she said, gently. “And I don't see much outside of this shop and my home. You are the only skeleton I've seen since coming to this part of the mountain, but that doesn't mean anything. I know there are snakes and frogs and lions and dragons here, but I have not seen them with my own eyes. That doesn't mean they aren't here, though. Home is a big place—I could walk every street and still not see every inhabitant.”

She saw the crestfallen expression on the little skeleton standing before her, and felt her heart shatter.

“Sans,” she said, trying her best to sound reassuring. “I'm sure there are skeletons here. We just haven't seen them ourselves, yet.”

Sans nodded, doing his best to keep the tears from escaping the corners of his eyes. He put his purchases in his bag, wiping his eyes on his sleeves as he did so, and stood up, thanking Ashen, once again, for everything.

The two friends bid each other farewell, and Sans left. He slipped down a nearby alleyway and returned to the shelter.

Papyrus had been right, as usual.

Sans felt so much better after his trip to the market. Not only had he returned safe, but, thanks to his visit with Ashen, he was relieved to learn that the cat had indeed been wrong.

Before dinner, he tried his hand at making tea—making some long white bones to put over the magical flame to place the pot of water on. It was difficult as it was his first time, but he succeeded in making his first cup of tea. Soon after drinking it, he felt a nice, comfortable feeling in his soul.

He ate a hearty dinner—to Papyrus' absolute glee and relief—and after their post-dinner chores, he laid in the bed under the blanket with the lavender pouch near his pillow, another cup of chamomile tea on a little bone table he created next to the bed, and his new book in his hands. He read about constellations, planets, and their placements as he sipped the flowery tea and breathed in the thick aroma as Papyrus played with his tiny white bones near the opposite wall.

When Sans finished the chapter and his tea, he called his brother for bed as he placed his book on the new side table, feeling quite drowsy. Papyrus climbed into the bed, curling up beside his big brother as he made his blue bones disappear, darkening the room.

Sans shut his eyes and sighed deeply—a happy, calm sigh. In his mind, he saw the illustrations from his new book, and he traced along the stars, forming constellations and rehearsing their names. He continued through the night sky under his eyelids, the scent of lavender surrounding him.

Then he was waking up, slowly, from a full night's uninterrupted sleep he didn't even realize he slipped into.


	36. Chapter 36

Sans dug into his bowl of cereal, eager to start the day.

He had been nightmare free for two weeks now, and getting proper sleep every night. He would have the occasional dream about the attack, but they would no longer wake him up in the middle of the night. He would only vaguely recall having the dream when he roused in the morning, but was able to push it out of his mind quickly.

He had checked his HP that morning and saw that he was finally over 200 again, which, to him, was a safe cushion of health to have in case of another unexpected attack.

Papyrus looked up at his brother as he munched on his apple wedges slathered with peanut butter. He was so happy to see his brother continuing to improve in his mood and appetite. He licked peanut butter off his fingertips, humming cheerily.

After breakfast, Sans packed their lunch and brought them to the corner of the valley to train. He unshouldered his haversack and laid it on the ground, then started to create dozens of thin, tall snow targets for Papyrus.

Once he had finished, he walked over and started making targets for himself as Papyrus began practicing his ground attacks.

When Papyrus had destroyed half his targets, he glanced over at his brother to see how he was doing.

Sans had been busy, but he wasn't making the usual tall, thin snow targets for himself. Rather, he had created three large snowmen. They weren't the typical, rounded snowmen they used to make on those lovely winter afternoons back in the forest. These were _much_ different.

The one on the left had a long, triangular head and tiny ears, the one on the right had a thin, pointed nose or mouth, and the one in the middle—which Sans was finishing up on—was larger, wider, and had big, triangular ears and mean eyes. He had poked holes through the sides of the torso on the middle one, sculpting “arms” that were bent, as if the snowman had his hands on his hips.

When he was finished, he stood back and nodded with grim satisfaction, then turned to walk a short distance away from them.

Papyrus whimpered sadly, realizing that Sans had made his targets look like his attackers. His own targets behind him forgotten, the little skeleton watched his brother.

Sans turned and faced the three targets, his face set in a solemn glower. He raised his left hand out and a long, loose white bone shot up from the ground beside him, which he grasped firmly. He stood for a moment, then bent his knees slightly and slid his left foot back behind him, taking a fighting stance. He narrowed his eyes and raised the bone up across his chest.

He swung the bone downward, pointing it towards the ground as he held his arm out at an angle at his side, and sprang forward, sprinting towards the target on the left. He leaned forward to gain speed and momentum, and just before he reached the target, he gripped the bone in both hands and raised it over his shoulder.

He spun around, swiping the target with the bone, slicing through its waist. As the upper half of the snowman slid off and crumbled to the ground, Sans was already upon the right target, stabbing it clear through its midsection and ripping the bone through the side of the snowman, causing the head and torso to topple off.

Sans stood up straight, the bone still gripped tightly in his left hand, and casually walked in front of the middle and final snowman.

Papyrus watched as his brother rested the bone on his shoulder nonchalantly as he calmly strode from one side to the other, keeping his eyes firmly on the snowman's face. With the wind and the distance, Papyrus couldn't tell for sure, but it sounded as though Sans was _talking_ to it.

Sans grinned, thumping the bone against his shoulder playfully as he continued his pacing, left to right and back again. He gave a hollow laugh as he shut his eyes, standing directly in front of the snowman.

His grin faltered, but only slightly, as his eyes snapped open. His pupils were gone—his eyes empty, black voids, as dark as the hatred he held for his target. No—for the one who the target represented. All the anger, all the fear, all the pain and torment and nightmares and suffering and lies and cruelty—his hatred for them all burned behind his jet black eyes like a ravaging fire, hidden behind his calm, relaxed demeanor.

He tilted the bone forward in front of him, gripping it again like a club in his two hands, and swung at the target's right arm—the arm he had used to punch him, repeatedly, in his spine until it fractured. The arm of the snowman fell off easily, sliced through by his bone.

In a spinning turn, he swung the bone at the left arm—one of the arms he had used to ram him into the brick wall over and over again, fracturing his facial bones. The snow appendage dropped to the ground in a useless pile of snow.

Sans took several steps backwards, refusing to break eye contact—snow pressed false eyes staring at jet-black, dangerous eyes. He halted, hesitated, then sprinted at the snowman, jumping up high into the air as he swung the bone fiercely. As he landed, the head of the snowman slid forward, tumbling down the body until it hit the snow in front of it with a _fwump—_ the head that had sneered at him, flashed fangs at him, and laughed at him as he was crushed, damaged, and broken apart, both his body _and_ his mind.

Sans panted heavily, his chest heaving. Suddenly, he started whacking at the snowman with the long white bone. Until this point, he had attacked the snowmen silently and calmly. Now the air was filled with his grunts, his growls, and his cries, mingled with stifled sobs and wavering tones. He continued beating the snowman, standing in one spot for a moment before turning to another, breaking off piece after piece.

Soon, the snowman no longer resembled anything other than a large pile of snow, its features smashed away and beaten down in Sans' onslaught. Sans took a couple steps back, body heaving with sobs and ragged breathing.

He tossed the bone on the ground beside him and held his left palm up towards the broken snowman.

Instantaneously, scores of long, white bones sprang from the ground in various different angles, all focusing on the snowman. It didn't stand a chance. The mesh of bone made it impossible to see through to the center, where the pile of snow had been a moment ago.

The large cluster of bones remained there, unmoving and silent, as Sans stared at them, panting. Sweat poured down the sides of his temples as his empty eyes remained narrowed.

With a swipe of his arm, the bones disappeared, leaving nothing but a cloud of powdered snow. The wind carried it off like dust through its currents, and Sans watched it grimly.

Then he slumped to his knees, falling forward onto his forearms, on which he laid his forehead as he wept bitterly into the snow.

Papyrus rushed over and knelt beside him, hugging him gently as his brother cried.

The sounds of his cries echoed against the rock walls as gusts of wind whipped the remains of the fallen snowmen around the two skeletons.

Sans opened the little paper bag and handed Papyrus a peanut butter and mixed fruit jelly sandwich, some carrot slices, and apple wedges. The little skeleton munched quietly as Sans took out his own portion.

Sans heaved a deep sigh. He felt both worse and better at the same time. It felt good to destroy the snowmen that looked like his attackers. For a moment, he felt like he had regained the control they had robbed him of. But it had also re-opened some of the wounds in his mind that he thought he had fully healed. Clearly, it would take more time to heal from the injuries to his soul than he had thought.

Papyrus was glancing at him with a worried look in his eyes, then averted his gaze when he was caught looking.

“I'm ok,” Sans sighed, again. “I just... _needed_ to do that, and it took a lot out of me. But, really, I feel better after doing that. I know Mommy and Daddy said it's wrong to hit other monsters with our bones, but...it felt good to give them the same kind of hurt they gave me, even _if_ they were just snowmen....”

Papyrus gave a small shudder that had gone unnoticed by Sans. The same kind of hurt? Sans had not described what the teenagers had done to him, only that he was attacked. He knew from the injuries that Sans had sustained that it had been bad. But after watching the brutal attack Sans made on the snowmen...what had they _really_ done to him?

A tiny sob escaped him, and Sans heard it.

“You ok, Pap?” he tilted his head, his eyebrows raised worriedly.

Papyrus didn't want his brother to worry, not with everything else he had on his mind.

He smiled. “Yeah, m'okay, jussa hiccup from da apple.”

The two brothers ate in silence, each deep in their own thoughts, worries, and struggles.

Papyrus was standing by his brother as he put the food wrappings into the paper bag and shoved it into the haversack. When Sans got to his feet, Papyrus jogged over to the area he had been training in, awaiting more targets.

“Actually,” Sans called out to him. “I want to do something different.”

Papyrus tilted his head, frowning in confusion.

Sans walked away from him for a bit, then turned around. There was a large gap between them, so Sans had to cup his mouth with his hands to shout.

“I want you to try to hit me.”

Although he was far away, Sans could tell that his brother was blinking in shock.

“I not gonna hit you,” Papyrus' voice was small in the distance.

“Come on,” Sans pled. “I wanna see if you can hit a moving target.”

_And I want to see if I can dodge it._

Sans watched as his brother stood there, his right hand twitching with hesitation.

“If you can hit me, I'll give you _two_ cookies tonight instead of just one!”

Papyrus still didn't move. He wouldn't hurt his brother. Not even for two _hundred_ cookies.

Sans groaned. This wasn't how he pictured it.

“C'mon, Pap! You need the practice, and so do I!”

“ _You gonna hit me?!”_ The panic was clear in his voice.

“No, Pap!” Sans laughed. “I wanna practice keeping safe when someone tries to...tries to attack me....”

His voice trailed off towards the end, but Papyrus heard it, and understood now why Sans wanted to do this. Papyrus sighed, resigned to help his brother, but scared of hurting him.

Sans saw his brother raise his right arm and braced for the incoming attack.

A single white bone shot up in front of Papyrus and veered off to his right so far away, Sans couldn't run into it even if he wanted to.

“What the heck was that?!” Sans cried out, laughing.

“Das my attack,” Papyrus answered matter-of-factly.

“That was a _babybone_ attack!” Sans taunted. “I thought you'd gotten better at your aim!”

It didn't have the effect he wanted. He saw his brother's crestfallen face and realized he took his provocation as an actual insult. He couldn't see from there, but he bet tears were ready to fall down his brother's face.

“No, Pap!” Sans called out urgently. “I'm just teasing you, I didn't mean it! You're really good with your aim!”

“Really?” Papyrus' tiny voice carried over to him.

“Yeah!” Sans said, genuinely. “You're really powerful and strong! You're the best I know! That's why I want to practice with you!”

“I'm da only one you know,” Papyrus answered.

Sans smacked his forehead, then ran his hand down his face. He was getting nowhere.

“Papyrus!” he shouted impatiently. “Just hit me already! Jeez!”

No sooner had he said it than a white bone ground attack came whizzing right at him.

“Whoa,” Sans breathed, moving to the side and narrowly missing the attack.

“How's dat?” Papyrus asked, innocently.

“Perfect!” Sans grinned. “Keep 'em coming! Fire all ya got at me! I've got plenty of HP, don't worry!”

One by one, white bones drove through the snowy ground at full speed, each starting off in different areas, but all flawlessly aimed at him.

He dodged the first few easily, figuring this wouldn't be much of a challenge, but soon the attacks came faster, and avoiding one without being hit by the next was becoming more difficult. Sweat trickled down his face as he grinned wider—now _this_ was what he was talking about!

“You're doing good, Pap!” he shouted, breathlessly, as he arched his back to evade an oncoming bone. “Keep goi—ow!”

A bone hit him square in the shinbone.

Immediately all bones disappeared.

“You okay?!” Papyrus cried out, his voice high-pitched with concern.

“Yeah, I'm ok,” Sans cried out, waving with one hand as he bent down and rubbed his shin with the other.

He checked his HP and saw that the attack knocked 7 HP off him.

 _Whoa,_ he thought, his eyes widening. _He really_ has _gotten more powerful._

Sans stood back up straight. “Ok, let's do that again! You're doing amazing with your aim, Pap!”

Papyrus hesitated again, but seeing that his brother was all right, he narrowed his eyes and sent off several more ground attacks.

Sans watched as they came, from all different angles, and all of them quickly heading straight for him. He kept his head forward as he scanned the bones with his eyes, judging the timing and determining if he should start left or right. Then they were upon him.

He skidded to the left as one zipped passed, spun around to avoid the next, jumped forward then immediately backwards to miss the two that came one after the other, then slid between another pair before twisting to avoid the last.

Sans stood in the lull, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat from his brow, as he watched the next volley approach, faster than before.

He started off strong, but when he turned to avoid one, he tripped over his own foot and fell backwards.

It all happened so fast, neither he nor Papyrus could do anything in time.

Two bones cracked his knee and foot simultaneously. A third hit him right in the spine as he landed on the ground. Then he was hit by the rest of the twenty bones Papyrus had sent at him, his body knocked around on the snow as he was struck repeatedly. It was after the three that smashed into his skull at once that he lost consciousness.

There was a thick haze in Sans' mind as his awareness slowly broke through. He sensed something hovering over him, and it wasn't until he opened his eyes, blearily, that he realized that something was his brother.

Papyrus was sobbing as he held his glowing green hands over Sans' spine. He had started with his brother's cracked skull and was working his way down, healing all the injuries he had caused.

Sans leaned up on his elbows—the shattered one had already been healed—and looked up at his brother.

“P-Pap...?”

Papyrus whipped his head towards his brother before flinging his arms around his neck. Sans made a surprised, choking sound as his brother crushed his windpipe.

“Sas!” Papyrus wept, his tears soaking Sans. “I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I knew dis was bad! I did _such_ a bad fing! I'm so soh-hoh-rry!” His apology was elongated by his racking sobs.

Sans reached up and patted his brother's back reassuringly. “No, don't be sorry. I'll be ok. It's not your fault, I asked you to do this. Like I said, I had enough HP, I knew there was a chance I'd get hit.”

He reached under his brother to put his hand on his own chest. It glowed white as he checked his HP.

48 HP/1 HP.

_Yeep...._

He was extremely grateful that he had waited until he was over 200 HP to attempt this.

He grunted deeply, his unhealed bones sending waves of pain through him. Papyrus whimpered tearfully.

“I-I owe you t-two cookies tonight,” Sans chuckled through gritted teeth.

Papyrus peeled himself off his brother's neck to continue healing him from the damage he had done. Sans looked at his sniffling, penitent brother in admiration and awe as he reformed his spine.

He really _was_ a force to be reckoned with.


	37. Chapter 37

Sans stood up straight. He readjusted the cloth tied around his face over his nose and mouth, then wiped the sweat off his brow with his rolled-up sleeve as he blew out a tired sigh. He leaned backwards, holding his lower back as he stretched it out after being bent forward for so long, listening to it pop and crack. His spine, along with the other bones broken during the training session two weeks ago, had fully healed, thanks to his amazing brother and lots of bed-rest. He looked around, assessing his progress.

He had spent several hours working on the trash mounds, arriving soon after breakfast. Papyrus was happy to spend the day playing inside with his tiny white bones and Teddy, with the assurance that Sans would come home for lunch before returning to the darkened area's refuse pit.

The stench was still extremely pungent, heavy on the air like a thick, humid fog. As much as he hated being down here—between the memories and the disgusting nature of the place—Sans saw a great benefit to cleaning it up as much as he could. Once the decay was gone, items washing up on the mounds would make for incredibly valuable foraging.

He started off by focusing on one mound, taking the heavy, useless items and tossing them into the waters, where they sank to the bottom at a depth Sans shuddered to consider. He created a long, thick white bone to push, prise, and lever items too big and bulky for him to lift over the mound's bank, where they tumbled with great splashes.

He piled up decayed and rotting wood on the far side of the mound. He found a long, broken spearshaft and transported to the torch-lit path, lighting the end of the shaft on one of the ever-burning magical flames. He returned to the mound and set the useless wood on fire, burning it away as the flames released the horrible stench of decomposing lumber. As terrible as it was to fill the already-difficult-to-manage air with more putrid odors, he knew that if he tossed the wood into the waters, it would float rather than sink, washing up on yet another mound. As he found more rotting wood, he added it to the blazing fire.

Sans had considered tossing the decayed matter into the waters, but realized it would only fill the water with more filth. Coming up with an idea, he found an old bucket with a broken handle and transported to the area above the pit. Using a thin bit of wood, he scooped hydric soil into the bucket until it was full, transported back down to the mound, and covered areas with decomposing matter up with the soil, tamping it down with his foot. He made several trips retrieving soil until he had buried all the revolting areas with layers of clean dirt.

It had been some time since he had been here, and the bone bridges that Papyrus had built when he had fallen down here were now knee-deep underwater. Sans was glad for the rising water level, since that and his own efforts would soon leave this area somewhat bearable.

After cleaning up three mounds, he figured it was time to head back for lunch. He let the rotten woodpile continue to burn—the mound was surrounded by water, the worst it would do was light the rest of the mound on fire, which wouldn't necessarily be a terrible thing. Making sure that the bucket he had used for dirt was in the center of a different mound—safe from being washed away—he transported to the above area.

He tore off the cloth around his face, sucking in the sweet, fresh air. When he had cleared the repugnant air from his lungs, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the small sliver of soap he had cut from their bar and wrapped in parchment paper. He unwrapped it and gave it a long, deep sniff, breathing in the glorious scent of strawberries.

He went over to one of the waterways that spilled out over the edge and created a bone fence just before the cascade. He took off his shirt and pants, dropping them into a pile at the bank of the waterway, plopping the soap sliver on top. Dreading the coming sensation, Sans sat on the bank and slipped himself into the icy, chest-deep waters. His breath caught, frozen in his lungs, then his body heaved a loud shudder.

He dipped his head underwater for a moment, then rose back out, shivering as he caught his breath. His body sufficiently soaked, he pulled himself out of the water. Shaking like a leaf, he grabbed the soap with trembling hands and quickly scrubbed himself with it, lathering up his bones. Once he had fully soaped himself up, he slid back into the waterway, allowing the current to rinse him off.

He plunged himself back underneath, wiping the soap from his skull, neck, shoulders, and ribs before coming back up for air. He shivered violently as he watched the floating, soapy bubbles get swept away, past the safety bone fence and over the falls.

 _Heh,_ he laughed to himself as he continued wiping the bones that were underwater. _Maybe_ that _will clean the water down there._

Once he finished rinsing the soap away, he climbed out of the waterway, shivering in the open air. He grabbed his dirty clothes—wrapping the wet soap in his shirt—and the parchment paper, made the bone fence disappear, and then disappeared himself.

He teleported to the shelter's main room, shaking as he held his pile of clothes in front of himself. Papyrus took one look at him from the bed, gasped, then swiveled himself to face the wall, giving his naked brother privacy.

Sans rushed into the fire room, his teeth chattering, and grabbed the large piece of rough cloth that he had placed on the warming rack before he left. He toweled himself off in front of the fire, and once he was bone dry, he put on the clean clothes he had also placed on the warming rack for when he returned cold, wet, and naked.

Dry and dressed in clean, warm clothes, he put the long bones that were standing up against the wall over the flame and set the pot of water over it to heat up. As he waited, he dumped his dirty clothes into the laundry bucket and stepped back into the main room.

“Ok, so...m-maybe I _won't_ go back there after l-lunch,” he said with a lingering shiver. “It'll take me the r-rest of the day to warm back up after that b-bath.”

He glanced over at his brother, who was still facing the wall. He chuckled to himself.

“It's ok, Pap,” Sans grinned. “I'm dressed again.”

Papyrus swung himself back around, a tiny tinge of a blush still on his cheekbones.

“You hungry for lunch?” Sans asked, heading to the pantry.

“Yeah!” his brother answered, his face split into a wide smile.

Together, they prepared their lunch—a salad of baby spinach, chopped pine nuts, walnuts, and cattail stalks, sliced tomatoes and mushrooms, all drizzled with their favorite dressing, along with slices of white cheddar cheese and toasted crusty wheat bread. Papyrus washed his lunch down with ice cold water, while Sans sipped his warm, soothing chamomile tea.

“So, since I'm not going to continue cleaning that place out,” Sans said, cupping his mug with both hands to warm his bones. “Want to spend the rest of the day playing together?”

Papyrus' eyes lit up and his mouth dropped open in a long, slow gasp of joy.

“Heh,” Sans chuckled, grinning widely. “I'll take that as a 'yes'.”

The two skeletons played until dinnertime, enjoying both their activities and time with each other.

Sans stepped into the tailor's shop, rummaging through the basket, looking for more thick, white thread—his basket-making had eaten up his supply. The sable ferret tailor had been reshelving large spools of fabric on the opposite wall, but had caught him entering out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, hey there, friend,” the ferret called cheerily as he finished putting away the spools. “Haven't seen you in a good long whil— _what happened to you?!”_

Sans nearly jumped out of his clothes, dropping the spool of thread he had searched for. Before he could answer, the ferret had rushed over to him. Sans could feel the pressure of the tailor's hands running over his haversack.

“Oh,” Sans breathed, his voice going low. He realized the tailor had seen the multiple holes in his haversack. “I...I was...attacked....”

The ferret inspected the damage with his trained eye, shaking his head slowly.

“My friend,” he whispered, his voice covered in concern. “These...these were made with _claws_.... The tearing, the rips—this was.... _violent_.”

The ferret turned Sans to face him gently. Sans looked up into his face—his smoky grey mask was creased upwards in worry.

“No wonder I haven't seen you in so long,” he whispered sadly. “Are you all right?”

Sans averted his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, it happened a couple months ago, I'm ok now. My brother healed me with his magic. It was... _really_ bad. I tried to sew my bag, but the way the cloth tore, the stitches weren't holding.” He shut his eyes tightly and spoke softly. “I hate those holes...they...they remind me of what he did to me....”

The ferret sniffed, twitching his whiskers in sympathy. “My friend, please let me fix your haversack.”

Sans gasped, looking up hopefully. “You can fix it?! Yes, _please_!”

He unshouldered it and handed it to the ferret. The tailor hurried behind the counter, taking out a small satchel that he opened and pulled tools out of. Sans stood on tip-toes to try to see, but the ferret was working on a small table behind the counter, his back blocking Sans' view.

After a few moments, the ferret held the bag up in front of him, checking his work closely. Then he rounded the counter, smiling, and returned the bag to Sans.

Sans gasped, his eyes growing wide as he looked at his precious haversack.

It looked as though it had never been torn by the vicious cat's claws. All holes, tears, and rips were gone, with no sign of seams or patches. All evidence of the attack on his bag had been erased.

“H-how...?” Sans stammered, running his fingers over the healed fabric.

The ferret smiled warmly. “I'm a tailor. It's what I do.”

Sans looked up at him, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Thank you.... Really, _thank you_. Every time I saw the holes....” He couldn't finish as he held back a sob.

The ferret shook his head gently. “I'm just glad I could fix your haversack, and mend _those_ wounds.”

“What do I owe you?” Sans asked, reaching for the gold in his pocket.

“Just for the spool of thread, my friend,” the ferret said as he went back behind the counter, his voice gaining some of its upbeat cheeriness again.

Sans protested. “No, I've got to pay you for fixing—”

The ferret held up his hand, silencing the skeleton. “If you had torn your bag yourself, I would charge you, but _that._ No. _That_ was not your fault, and I can't imagine the horror you dealt with when it happened. Nope, just the thread, my friend.”

Sans paid for the thread, thanking the ferret profusely for his kindness, and walked out of the stand, still staring at the flawless fabric on his beloved bag.

Having his haversack fixed set Sans in an incredibly good mood. Since the attack, the sight of his haversack made him sick, reminding him of that terrible day every time he laid eyes on the holes. Now, just like his bones, it was fixed as if nothing had happened.

He continued his shopping in high spirits, picking up things to replenish their pantry for the week. He made his purchases quickly, for he wanted to finish soon. He couldn't wait to show Papyrus. He couldn't wait to tell Ashen.

He finished his food shopping and jogged over to Ashen's shop. As he entered, he came to a jarring halt, the smile wiped from his face.

Behind the counter was a silver vixen, sitting on Ashen's chair, reading a book.

Sans was paralyzed on the spot.

The fox caught sight of him out of the corner of his eye, and smiled warmly as she closed her book and stood up.

“Hello there,” she said, sweetly. “How can I help you?”

“Where's Ashen?” Sans' voice was so low, it sounded more like a demand than a query.

The smile on the vixen's face faltered, and she tilted her head, looking closely at Sans. As he lifted his head up, awaiting her answer, she could see his face better under his hood. Her eyes widened slightly, realizing he was a skeleton.

“You must be Sans,” she said, softly.

“Where's Ashen?” Sans repeated, his voice quivering a bit. The fox knowing his name scared him a little.

The silver fox rounded the counter slowly, the silence deafening Sans as she approached him and knelt down.

“Where's Ashen?” he reiterated a third time, each word spoken slowly with a hint of panic.

The fox looked down at the ground, her eyes shut tight. Sans hated that she wouldn't answer him, hated that she kept silent when it was a simple question, that only needed a simple answer—she was at home, visiting her friend, shopping elsewhere. All he needed was the simple answer.

When the vixen looked up, Sans saw that tears had run down her face, creating furrows in her fur.

“Honey,” she said, her own voice trembling. “Ashen fell down a few days ago.”

“Ok,” Sans said, slightly relieved, though the fox's behavior concerned him. “Then she just needs to get better. When is she coming back?”

The fox stifled a sob. “No, honey. Ashen _fell down_. She's gone, sweetheart. She isn't coming back.”

It was as if the words gripped the sides of Sans' soul and tore it harshly.

“No,” Sans said, his voice shallow and empty as tears flowed freely from his eyes. “No, she can't be.”

“I'm so sorry,” the vixen started crying. “I know you were her friend. She talked about you _all the time_.”

Sans started sniffling, his mind racing as his tears fell. “But...I just saw her...last week....”

The fox wiped her endless tears with her hands. “Honey, she's been sick for such a long time....”

“W-what...?” Sans breathed, utterly shocked.

“When we found her house, burning that horrible day,” she said. “And she knew her family was gone—she never recovered from that heartbreak.”

Sans gasped softly. “You-you're her friend, the one who took care of her when it happened....”

The fox nodded. “She was my best friend, and I loved her like a sister. I did all I could to help her, but I couldn't stop the pain she felt from losing her husband and her children like that. She stopped eating, barely slept.... When we were locked in this wretched mountain, and we walked through cavern after cavern with the others.... We entered that bitter cold snow, I saw her shivering terribly. I offered her my cloak—she had lost everything in the fire, including her winter cloak. But she refused, said she didn't want me getting sick from the freezing snow and wind. I insisted, telling her that foxes could bear the cold, but birds could not.... She wouldn't take it.... That's when she got gravely sick....”

Sans listened to the fox's story, and as she spoke, pieces fell into place in his mind. Her thinness. The constant shuddering. The unseasonal feather loss. She _had_ been sick the whole time, and Sans hadn't noticed the signs.

Understanding that she'd shown symptoms the whole time he had known her drove the fact that she had indeed died hard into Sans. He fell into the vixen's arms and started weeping bitterly. The fox held him tightly, trying to comfort him as she herself was mourning the loss of her closest friend.

“Honey,” she whispered at last. “You have no idea how important your friendship was to her. Especially after losing chicks your age. You made her last few months happier. She cared for you so very much.”

Sans buried his face into the fox's fur, crying harder. He was still in shock—how could Ashen be gone? It wasn't fair....

“At her funeral,” she whispered. “We placed some of her dust in the basket you made her, just as she asked us to.”

Sans shut his eyes tighter, sobbing harder at the memory of him giving her the basket he had carefully crafted specially for her. How it had made her so happy, and how he had seen her using it for her knitting every time he visited her since.

The fox pulled back to look into Sans' face, her eyes still shedding tears. “She left something for you....”

She stood up and went to one of the large chests in front of the counter. She moved the crates from on top, opened it, and pulled out a couple items from the contents. She knelt back down in front of Sans.

“Here,” she whispered softly, her voice trembling with emotion.

Sans took the items into his shaking hands, and looked at them through teary eyes.

The first item was a long, wooden box. On the lid, a feather criss-crossed a bone in a wide X the length of the box, the design beautifully burned into the wood. He opened the hinged lid carefully.

Inside was a sooty-grey feather with a metal pen tip at the end.

It was a quill.

“It's one of her pinion feathers,” the fox explained, tearfully. “She had it enchanted with purple magic, so it will never run out of ink.”

Sans let out a pained whimper. After all this time, Ashen kept her promise and finally found him a writing utensil.

He shut the box, weeping, and looked at the item underneath.

It was a book. Its binding was a beautiful shade of blue, matching his jacket perfectly. As he opened the cover, he noticed a small envelope inside with his name on it. He pulled it out, opened it with trembling fingers, and read the note inside.

> _Dear Sans,  
>    
>  _ _I am so sorry that you are reading this, because  
>  _ _it means that I'm no longer here. My life has been  
>  _ _so much fuller having met you. I've really enjoyed  
>  _ _our weekly chats, getting to know you, and your  
>  _ _friendship. You've put a smile on my face that the  
>  _ _humans took away, and for that, I thank you.  
>    
>  _ _Sans, you have faced a lot in your young life, more  
>  _ _than you ever should have suffered. I wish I could  
>  _ _take that away, but I am so proud at how you have  
>  _ _persevered on this path you have been given. Your  
>  _ _dedication to your brother is inspiring, and I know  
>  _ _he is extremely lucky to have you taking care of  
>  _ _him.  
>    
>  _ _I know things are difficult for the two of you, but  
>  _ _please remember—you both have each other.  
>  _ _No matter what, that's all that really matters.  
>    
>  _ _I am sorry to leave you like this, but please don't  
>  _ _be sad. I'm going to be with my husband and my  
>  _ _dear children again, and I can't wait to tell them  
>  _ _all about you.  
>    
>  _ _I also can't wait to meet your mom so I can tell  
>  _ _her what an amazing son she has.  
>  _  
>  _Hope you find your dad soon.  
>    
>    
>  _ _I love you, my little one,_
> 
> — _Ashen_

Sans wept as he read, each word cutting straight through his splitting soul. He would need to read it again later, as he couldn't process the note with his crushing grief. He put it back in the envelope and slipped it in the book.

He flipped through the blue book and noticed that the pages were blank. He went to the first page, and saw that Ashen had written on it.

> _Sans,  
>    
>  _ _Cherish the good times  
>  _ _Learn from the bad  
>  _ _Record them all_  
>  _More than anything else,  
>  _ _Make wonderful memories with those you love  
>  _ _Look back on them whenever you feel sad or alone_
> 
> — _Ashen_

Sans shut the book and hugged the gifts close to him as he continued crying.

He thanked Ashen's friend, expressed his sympathy for her own loss, and left. He continued sobbing as he found a nearby alleyway to transport in, and returned to the shelter.

Papyrus looked over at his brother and saw that he was crying and thought he'd been attacked again. He asked urgently what was wrong.

Sans told him that his friend had died, and Papyrus hugged him tightly. Sans returned the hug, then unshouldered his bag, kicked off his shoes, and climbed into the bed, sitting cross-legged, wrapping himself in the blanket Ashen had made for them.

The blanket covered his head like a hood, and the tighter he pulled at the sides, the more it felt like Ashen herself was hugging him with her gentle wings. He sat there, weeping uncontrollably, as his brother sat beside him, leaning on him in sympathy and support.

The wind swept snowflakes around the shelter in hushed currents, embracing the abode in its wintry arms of snowfall as the little skeleton inside painfully mourned the loss of his dear, beloved friend.


	38. Chapter 38

Sans turned the page in his journal, smiling fondly as he continued reading about the time he and his brother had made a giant pile of snow in the valley corner.

It was three times as tall as they were. They made a snow “stairway” leading to the top of it, and sloped the other side. After working all morning building it, they spent the rest of the afternoon climbing up it and sliding down, giggling and laughing the whole time.

Sans laughed softly to himself as he remembered the sheer glee on his brother's face, having the time of his life. He could still hear his squeals of joy and amusement as he slid down, landing sprawled out on the snowy ground. He sighed happily as he read the words, seeing the memory in his mind vividly, although it had been several years ago.

Sans shut the journal gifted to him by Ashen, every inch of its pages filled with memories, thoughts, and emotional outpourings. He laid it down on his lap as he looked out at the snowy valley, his mind still playing through that wonderful day. He felt so much better now—his downhearted mood had faded away with each page turn. He sighed once again, his soul feeling lighter as he smiled to himself.

“Sans?”

His brother's small voice pulled him out of his reverie. He poked his head out and looked down at him.

“Yeah?” he grinned.

“Dinner time,” Papyrus called up, his hands still cupping the sides of his mouth.

“Sure thing, Pap,” Sans answered. “Be right there.”

Papyrus waited patiently, staring up at the little nook his brother had created for himself on the sheer side of the extremely tall stone formation near their shelter.

He had made his way up towards the top using bone stairs, then created a small platform of bones, long enough for him to sit down on with his legs fully extended. Since he could now transport to the platform, he made the stairs disappear, ensuring that no one could climb up it if it had ever been discovered.

He used broken barrel staves that he had found in the refuse pit and made a wide, curved roof over the platform by sandwiching each stave securely between white bones on the top and underside. The arched, awning-like covering was high enough for him to stand up, extended just past the end of the platform, and reached down both sides, partially closing the little space off from the outside. The half-moon roof kept the snowfall off him so he could read without snowflakes damaging the pages of his books. The curved roof had been covered with snow within weeks, melding into the frosted stone formation.

Sans had made a thick, long cushion and a huge pillow out of soft, blue fabric and stuffed with cattail fluff. He laid the cushion on the bone platform and the pillow against the stone so that he could sit comfortably for hours, high up on the side of the stone formation, as he read or sat, deep in thought.

Papyrus was used to him going up there to be by himself, although he always felt a little sad that he did. Between being left behind at the shelter, alone for hours at a time, and knowing that Sans only went up there when he was feeling sad or discouraged, it bothered Papyrus immensely when Sans would utter the words, “I'll be back later.”

He wished that Sans felt that being with him was enough, but for some reason, Sans felt better after he returned from his time alone. As if he was better off without his little brother around....

Papyrus sighed sadly as he waited for his brother to join him. That is, if he even _wanted_ to join him.

Sans stood up and looked at his journal for a moment, the happy, fun memories he had read that day still running through his mind. He held it in both his hands, rubbing the worn, blue cover with his thumbs affectionately. Then he tucked it in the inside his jacket, too big for his pockets. He raised his left hand, making the blue bone disappear and took a step. He appeared next to Papyrus in an instant, his brother watching him step through the familiar blue flame of magic.

They turned and started walking back towards the shelter in silence, side by side, while the gentle gusts of wind blew around them. Sans could have easily transported them to the main room of their little home, but he cherished these short walks with his brother in the wintry winds and deep snow.

Papyrus let the hand closest to his brother dangle out by his side, hoping that his brother would grasp it like he used to years ago. The wind encircled his fingers, the cold against his bones underscoring the longing for his big brother's hand. After a few moments, Papyrus pulled his hand tight against his hip, clenched like his eyelids as the hurt seared his soul. He knew he should be used to it by now, yet he never was.

They walked on, and after a while, Sans gave his brother a subtle sideways glance. Papyrus was so serious, walking alongside him like this. He rarely smiled anymore. Sans turned his eyes forward before his little brother noticed him looking at him, and sighed sadly, thinking of the giggling brother squealing down the snow slide so long ago.

Sans drifted his hand slightly away from his side, desperate to take his little brother's hand, but thought better of it, and shoved it in his jacket pocket instead. Papyrus had been adamant over the last couple years that he was “all grown up,” a phrase that stung his heart like thorns every time Papyrus declared it. The last thing Papyrus would want is for him to hold his hand like a babybones. Sans clenched his hand within his pocket, missing the feeling of his little brother's hand in his, that feeling that gave him comfort in knowing that his little brother needed him.... _Wanted_ him.

What his little brother wanted was more independence, and each time Papyrus took on something Sans had always done or helped him with, Sans felt more and more useless to his brother. Like he was better off without him.

Although skeletons aged far, _far_ slower than other monsters, and despite the fact that he and his brother were still very young skeleton children, Sans _had_ to admit that his little brother _was_ growing up.

And he wasn't ready for it.

He stole another glance and sighed. Papyrus was almost as tall as he was. Soon, he would grow up and wouldn't need him at all.

The two brothers continued walking towards the shelter, each trapped in the sad and fearful thoughts that plagued their souls.

At the shelter, Sans went over to the pile of three small wooden crates that served as a bookcase. He slipped his journal in with the other volumes, returning it to its spot at the beginning of the row.

Meanwhile, Papyrus went into the fire room to finish up the dinner he had prepared for them, sighing as he recalled when he and his brother used to do this together. But instead of cutting, chopping, or slicing with him, his brother had stayed up in his nook, alone. If he hadn't gone and fetched Sans, he might have stayed the whole night up there. He made the finishing touches as his brother called to him from the other room.

“Need any help, Pap?” Sans asked, hopefully.

“No thanks,” Papyrus sighed. He was already done.

“Oh,” Sans replied, hoping to hide the hurt in his voice.

Sans missed the days when he would work on their meals, and Papyrus would help him out. He loved how they formed their meals together, then relished their handiwork as they ate. Now Papyrus had taken on making their meals, alone. Every time Sans offered to help, Papyrus declined him. Just another task his little brother didn't need him for anymore.

Sans turned to face the book crates, making sure his back was to his brother as he entered with their plates. He didn't want Papyrus to see him wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes.

Papyrus looked up after he set their food down at their settings.

“Dinner's ready, Sans,” Papyrus said softly, sitting at his place.

Sans turned around, the grin on his face hiding any trace of tears remaining in his eyes.

“Great! I'm starving!” he said in a voice he tried to make cheery.

He sat in his spot and looked at their meal: Toasted sandwiches with crusty wheat bread, white cheddar, smoked gouda, tomatoes, baby spinach, pickled cucumbers, and mouseshroom nightlights, with tomato soup.

Sans' eyes widened and his mouth watered. “Pap...this looks _amazing.”_

Papyrus smiled. “I'm glad, I hope you like it.”

“I _know_ I will,” Sans grinned, picking up his large sandwich.

He took a bite and moaned at the taste of it—the gooey cheese, the sumptuous vegetables, and the crisp on the outside, soft on the inside bread. As he chewed, he spooned up some of the soup and slurped it slowly.

“Oh _wow,”_ he breathed. “This soup is incredible.”

Papyrus blew on his spoon, then tasted it, his eyes wide with awe. “Wowie! That _is_ good!”

Sans slurped another spoonful, then picked up his sandwich again. “Next time, I'm buying more than one jar of that. I could eat that every day.”

Papyrus nodded, then took a large bite out of his sandwich.

The two enjoyed their dinners in silence for a bit, the occasional _mmm_ being uttered by one or the other brother. Halfway through, however, Papyrus spoke.

“Sans?” he said, his voice small.

His brother was in the middle of biting down on his sandwich. “Mmph?”

“You okay?” he asked, staring at his soup while he stirred it nervously.

Sans stuffed his bite in the side of his mouth to speak. “Yeah. Why?”

“Well,” Papyrus said, looking absently at his swirling spoon. “At breakfast, you seemed...really sad. And you didn't come home for lunch. You sure you're okay?”

Sans swallowed and grinned. “I'm fine, Pap. I just had a lot on my mind, had to clear it out. I'm fine.”

Papyrus didn't believe him, but he also didn't press. He stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke again, hesitantly.

“You'd... _tell me_...if something was bothering you...right?”

Sans winked at his brother, lying through his grinning teeth. “Of course.”

Papyrus wasn't convinced, the inability to help his brother crushing at his soul. “Okay.... Just checking.”

Sans grinned again, then spooned up more soup. He couldn't tell his brother how he had woken up that morning, once again, from another bad dream. How he dreamt that they were home—their _real_ home, in the forest—with their mother and father, with no war, no battles, nothing but sharing family dinner around the table, laughing and talking...until he woke up in their bed, in the mountain, having lost their mother, and still unable to find their father. How the life they had had was gone forever.

He couldn't tell his brother that he had slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake him, so that he could transport to his little hideaway to weep bitterly. That was the true reason he had created it—so that Papyrus never had to see him cry in his constant anguish. He couldn't tell him that he had barely regained control of his sorrow before returning to the shelter and climbing back into bed before Papyrus had woken up.

He couldn't tell his brother that he needed to be alone after breakfast to cry in the special space he had created on the stone formation until he was able to fill his mind with happy memories that he and his little brother had made.

Happy memories that somehow made him so sad now because they were of times when his brother needed him, wanted him, enjoyed time with him....

He couldn't tell his brother.

Papyrus looked over at his big brother. It seemed like all he wanted to do was be apart from him. He had tried so hard to make him happy.

When encouraging words didn't work, he started taking on more responsibilities to help ease his brother's burden. Sans did so much for him, and even though he was still just a toddler, Papyrus had learned a lot from his big brother. He kept insisting that he was all grown up now and could do many things himself, so that Sans wouldn't see him as the burdensome babybones he'd always been to him.

Maybe if Sans didn't have to take care of him as much, he'd be happier. So he started doing more things on his own. Maybe if Sans didn't have to work so hard, like making all their meals, washing the laundry and dishes, making the bed, he'd be happier. So he started taking on those tasks.

But still, his brother wasn't happy.

Maybe if he wasn't around...he'd be happier....

Papyrus sniffled. When his brother popped his head up to look at him, he blew on his spoonful, making his puffs sound as close to the sniffle as possible. When Sans looked back at his food, Papyrus took the moment to wipe his tears on his napkin, pretending that he was wiping food from his face.

The two brothers continued to eat their dinner, each far away in their own thoughts.

“Can I help with the laundry, Pap?” Sans asked, trying to hide his desperation from his voice.

“No, I got it,” the little skeleton answered.

 _You've already done so much for me...maybe if I pay you back by doing this, you'll smile again—a_ real _smile._

Papyrus scrubbed the clothes in the laundry bucket with the soap. He held up his brother's shirt, checking to see if the mud from the refuse pit was still there.

If he did I good job, making all the stains disappear, maybe his brother would say something. Tears fell into the dirty water as Papyrus remembered how his brother used to say how proud he was of him for doing things. It had been so long since he had looked at something he had done and said “Wow! Great job, Pap!”

Now Sans barely said anything at all when he did things. Maybe he wasn't doing a great job anymore. He was still little, after all. Maybe he was doing everything wrong, and Sans was actually disappointed in him. What if he was making Sans even more upset by screwing everything up?

Papyrus scrubbed harder, determined to please his brother with his efforts as the tears continued to fall down his face, his tiny sobs hidden behind the sounds of splashing water.

With his brother doing the last chore for the night, Sans sighed and went over to the book crates. He pulled out a different journal—a newer one, with the moon and stars over a lake on the cover—that was at the end of the completely-filled journals. He looked at the cover and recalled his family's nighttime outings to look at the star-filled sky, and felt the twinge of sadness in his soul. He sighed, then took the wooden quill box from on top of the crate pile and sat on the bed.

He opened the journal to his entry from the night before and put his quill down on the empty space beneath it. He wrote as his brother worked, mentioning the amazing dinner his brother had made them, and how much he liked the tomato soup.

Then he wrote about his sadness. How he missed his parents so much, and how his brother no longer needed him. How he longed for the days when Papyrus would look up to him, would need him to tie his shoes or make his breakfast.

How he was worried that Papyrus didn't want him around anymore. They had been alone together for _years—_ what if he was sick of having his stupid, useless brother around? What if, every time he left the shelter, Papyrus secretly wished that he wouldn't come back?

How he was scared that if his brother didn't need him or want him anymore, one day he might wake up to find he was gone, off to live his own life, all by himself—without him.

The tears kept rolling down his face with every word he wrote. The sooty grey quill shook in his trembling fingers as he desperately tried not to sniff or whimper, even though he would give anything to cry out loud and release the utter sadness that filled his hurting soul.

His sleeves were both soaked from the tears he kept wiping on them, and he worried that Papyrus might see. But what if he _did_ see? Would he even care that Sans had been crying?

Sans finished his entry just as Papyrus finished their laundry. Sans got up to return his journal to its spot, placing the quill box back upon the crate, as Papyrus made the bed.

They climbed into bed and Sans made his blue bones disappear. The room darkened and they laid back on their pillows, each staring up at the blank, white, snow ceiling in silence.

“Want me...to tell you...a bedtime story?” Sans asked, hesitantly.

 _Please,_ please _say yes...._

“No, it's okay.” Papyrus whispered in the semi-darkness.

 _How I wish you'd tell me a story...like you used to...._ Papyrus thought. _But, I don't want to bother you...._

 _You used to love my stories...._ Sans thought. _I guess you're too old for those, too...._

“Ok,” Sans said, struggling to hide the hurt from his voice. “Well, goodnight then.”

“Night,” Papyrus breathed, his lip quivering without his brother noticing.

They rolled over on their sides, their backs to each other. Sans clutched his pillow as Papyrus buried his face in Teddy. Silently, unbeknownst to the other, they cried themselves to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter I've written so far where I cried writing it....


	39. Chapter 39

The blue and pink gems cast their light into the area, the gentle, running waters reflecting their shimmers, as the scattered clusters of mouseshroom nightlights offered their own illumination to the small space. Both light sources paled in comparison to the four blue bones laying on the ground, surrounding the two brothers.

Sans had created a table and two short stools out of white bones from the ground so that they didn't need to sit on the damp soil to eat lunch. He made a short bone table to put their bags upon, and was digging through his haversack—stuffed with mushrooms—seeking out the bagged lunch he had made them.

Papyrus sat on one of the stools at the table, watching his brother. He felt bad that Sans had to make their lunch—it was something he could have easily saved him from doing if he had thought to prepare it before doing the breakfast dishes.

Sans pulled out the paper bag, grinning widely. While his brother was doing the dishes—declining his help, of course—Sans took the opportunity to make their bagged lunch.

He returned to the table and sat down, opening the bag. He handed Papyrus his portion.

“I really hope you like it, Pap,” he smiled, genuinely. “I know you make way better lunches than I do, but....” His voice trailed off as his smile faltered.

Papyrus took the little parcels of food with a big smile. “Are you kidding, Sans? You always made great lunches!”

They unwrapped their lunches, and munched on the peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwiches on soft multigrain bread, a bar made of vanilla granola with almonds, white chocolate, and honey, celery and carrot sticks, and a green apple each.

Papyrus hummed as he ate. “Sans, this is so nummy!”

A warm feeling spread in Sans' soul as he grinned with his eyes shut tight. “Thanks, Pap, I'm glad you like it.”

They ate in silence, tired from their morning's wanderings. Although they had explored much of the darkened area over the course of the last several years, they still had no idea how large the area actually was. What made things difficult for them was the myriad paths, tunnels, and walkways, most of which were maze-like.

There were countless times when they had spent hours traveling down a winding, twisting pathway, expecting to find a new area to explore, only to find that it emptied out into a place they'd already found before. It took them just a few months to explore all accessible areas of the snowy valley. They could spend hundreds of years in the darkened area and _still_ have no idea where they had been and where any path led.

It made the darkened area both intriguing and frustrating.

“I think we've been down that way before,” Sans said, pointing at an opening on the left with a carrot stick. “Want to try that one?” He pointed to another tunnel entrance on the right.

“Okay,” Papyrus agreed through a mouthful of his sandwich. He didn't care _where_ they went—he was just happy to spend time with his brother like this.

Their exploration trips had decreased over time, especially since the market offered them the food and supplies they needed and they found other activities to fill up their days. If they needed mushrooms, Sans would just take them to the darkened area for a short trip after breakfast, fill his haversack, then return home before the day truly began.

The only days they spent together were either when they were training their magic in the valley corner or staying at home, relaxing—Papyrus playing and Sans reading. Sans would occasionally make a trip down to the refuse pit he had cleaned up, searching through the washed-up items. He never asked Papyrus to join him for obvious reasons, since he had almost lost his life there, but Papyrus still wished he'd offer anyway. There were the weekly market trips, where Sans always went alone, too afraid—especially after the vicious attack he suffered—to bring his little brother with him.

Then there were the days when Sans went off to be by himself in his little hideaway. Those days had been more and more frequent, much to Papyrus' dismay.

So when Sans suggested going on an exploration trip during breakfast, Papyrus was thrilled.

Papyrus continued eating up his lunch as he hummed to himself happily, realizing that lunchtime only marked the halfway point of his day spent with his big brother. He had several more hours left with him, exploring together like they did in the old days, before returning home for dinner.

They progressed through the winding tunnel, using blue bones to light their path. The squelches of their shoes in the hydric soil echoed all around them, the ridiculous sounds making them giggle softly. The tunnel emptied out into a open area, and while they had not been to this place before, Sans' eyes grew wide when he saw the familiar torches lining a wide path.

“This must be where they came through,” Sans whispered to his brother.

“Yeah,” Papyrus nodded, staring at the burning, magical flames.

A wide, deep trench ran between the rows of spaced-out torches, caused by thousands of pairs of feet, paws, and other monster appendages. The path was much deeper here than in the snow valley, given that the soft, saturated soil had far more give than the deep snow.

“I bet if we continue that way”—Sans pointed down the path in the direction of the valley—“it will take us to the other side of that cave-in we found a while back.”

A few years prior, while exploring, they decided to follow the torch-lit path from the valley into the darkened area, knowing that it would ultimately lead to the other side of the mountain where the monsters had their final battle with the humans. The trail was just as deep and wide as the one before them now.

Unfortunately, the path abruptly ended in the middle of a tunnel. Unlike the tunnels in the giant cavern made of rock and stone, the tunnels in the darkened area were mostly made of the same hydric soil under their feet. The tunnel had caved in completely, and after the brothers backtracked out of it, they could find no way around to the other side. The tunnel was situated in the middle of a huge wall with an edge leading down to a dark void on the right side and the wall that had been on their left as they traveled down the trail meet the wall at a solid corner.

Sans looked at his brother and grinned. “Now we can see where this goes, Pap.”

Papyrus returned the grin, relishing in the excitement of adventure with his brother.

They traversed through the path for some time, sometimes entering tunnels, other times taking wide turns left or right. Sometimes they found things embedded in the pathway, trampled by the monsters, but most of them were ruined by age and by the moist soil engulfing it.

“Good thing we didn't need to depend on foraging down here, Pap,” Sans said with a soft laugh. “We would have starved to death.”

His brother nodded in silent agreement.

Sans smiled to himself, thoroughly enjoying the expedition with his brother. The exhilaration of discovering somewhere new after all this time, coupled with having Papyrus by his side, sent a wave of nostalgia through his soul. He really missed this—exploring the unknown with his little brother, marveling together over findings and discoveries.

A twinge of sadness cut through him suddenly as longing pulled at his soul. Why did they stop doing this as much as they used to? Each time they went on these trips, a little bit of the old days returned to the present. Papyrus would smile more, laugh more, enjoy himself more....

Maybe his brother _did_ enjoy time with him, after all.

 _No,_ Sans thought to himself, shutting his eyes momentarily as he walked on. _He's enjoying himself because he's on an adventure. Not because he's with me. He'd be just as happy—if not more so—if I weren't here._

He sighed sadly and opened his eyes, facing forward as he tried to see the pathway through his tear-filled vision.

Papyrus glimpsed at his brother at the sound of his sigh. He looked sad, maybe upset.

 _Is it because_ I'm _here?_ Papyrus wondered, sadly. _Maybe he wishes that he'd found this without me. Am I slowing him down? Did I do something wrong?_

He sighed sadly and closed his eyes, trying desperately to keep the tears from escaping.

They followed the torch-lit path through yet another large tunnel in a vast wall. As they reached the end of it, they stood, both rooted at the spot, staring upwards.

Dozens and dozens of giant, pointed crags jutted from the ground. They looked somewhere between miniature mountains and colossal, mutated stalagmites. Spiky stone protrusions thrust from all sides, discouraging any desire to climb up their well-armored, sheer slopes. The jagged crags silhouetted against a vermillion light cast upon the distant walls.

“S-Sans...,” Papyrus stammered in a fearful whisper, hiding himself behind his brother and clutching at his arm. “Why is the sky red like that...?”

Sans recognized the color and it's softening to burnt umber, magenta, then indigo the higher the light rose to the cavern ceiling. A yearning smile crept upon his face as his breathing slowed in disbelief at what he was truly looking at.

“I-it's...the sunset...,” he breathed softly.

They must be near the other side of the mountain, the large opening that thousands of monsters had poured into, and the sun—that beautiful, blinding sun—was painting the inside of the mountain with its warm brush strokes before settling in for the night.

He rushed forward, eager to reach the opening, to feel the last touches of sun on his face before basking in the cool moonlight that would follow, sheltered by billions of glittering stars—the night sky he so desperately wanted to see once again.

Papyrus ran after him, timidly, as they continued down the trodden trench. He wasn't sure why his brother was so happy at this sight—between the terrifying, pointed crags and the bright red light, it all seemed far too scary to him.

The torch-lit path continued through a massive, jagged opening, and Sans didn't hesitate at all to run right inside it. Papyrus stopped, staring up at the chilling formation. It looked like a giant creature with spikes and pointed teeth, just waiting for two little children to enter its mouth before chomping down and chewing them up.

The little skeleton shuddered, his legs afraid to move, when Sans poked his head out of the opening.

“You coming?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in concern.

Papyrus tore his eyes from the dangerous exterior and met his brother's. Sans could see that he was trembling with fear, and his face looked terrified.

“Hey, Pap,” he called gently. “It's ok, you don't have to be afraid. I'm here.”

He extended out his hand to his brother, twirling it once in a beckoning gesture.

Papyrus' eyes widened slightly at the sight of his brother's hand. Aside from transporting, which required Sans to take his hand, this was the first time in years that he had offered his hand for him to hold.

Papyrus looked back up at the fearful crag for a brief moment, then tentatively took a few shaky steps forward until he was running to grasp his big brother's hand.

He didn't care how terrifying the structure was, or if its giant, sharp teeth crushed him right now. All that mattered was the feeling of Sans' hand enveloping his own, giving him the feeling of safety and being loved that he had craved for so long.

They walked cautiously, hand in hand, as their footsteps on the stone echoed all around them, along with a distant rushing sound ahead of them. The tunnel through the crag was quite long, despite the fact that the structure looked smaller on the outside. As Sans looked down the torch-lit trail, he wondered if the base of this crag was part of those of the other crags they saw.

Soon, a large, wide waterway came into view, rushing past them deeper into the crag's base. The closer they got, the more Sans realized that this was no mere waterway—it was a full-blown river. It entered and exited through tunnels too short to see where they came from or led.

He gripped Papyrus' hand tighter as they walked over it on the naturally formed stone “bridge” crossing it. If his brother fell into it, he'd be swept away instantly, and couldn't bear to think of losing him to another rushing body of water. Papyrus squeezed back—the feeling warming Sans' soul more than the sunlight ever could.

They walked for a while through the tunnel, and in the distance, Sans could make out the end of the tunnel through the torchlight. It was just as red as the wall had been, so they must be close.

“Pap, look,” Sans pointed. “We're almost there.”

Papyrus wasn't too thrilled about being “there” if there was as scary as the outside, but the sensation of his brother's hand enveloping his made the fear all the more bearable.

They walked as quickly as they could without running—the uneven, stony ground threatening to twist their anklebones with every step. Sans wiped his brow, the exertion and excitement overheating him. Even Papyrus was sweating.

The closer they got, the warmer it became, and Papyrus started getting concerned.

“Sans?” he asked, breathless from their pace. “Why is it so hot in here?”

“It's just from us walking so fast,” Sans answered.

But as they neared the opening, gusts of hot wind hit their faces, forcing them to shield their eyes.

Papyrus gulped, his fear rising with the temperature. “Sans, I don't like this.”

“It's just the heat of outside,” Sans replied quickly. “Who knows, it might be summer out there now.”

They reached the end, and their pace slowly came to a halt. The smile that Sans had been wearing since seeing the sunset colors melted off his face as his eyebrows furrowed upwards in disappointment.

A blistering heat surrounded them, making it difficult to breathe. The ground before them was ochre clay, its fiery orange hue underscoring the heat of the massive area. Charcoal colored lava rock walls reached up to the top of the enormous cavern, and red lava rocks framed the edges of the ground they stood upon. A constant, murmuring gurgle filled the air. From the bright, yellow light emanating from all sides of the surface they were on, save the one leading back into the tunnel, Sans could tell they were high up.

Taking no chances, Sans raised his left hand and white bones shot up from the ochre ground, creating a safety fence around all three sides. Letting go of Papyrus' hand, he cautiously walked towards the bone fence to look over the edge.

Far below them flowed a large river of magma, glowing red, orange, and yellow. Sans gripped the bone fence and leaned his head against it, shutting his eyes tightly. _This_ is where the sunset colors had come from. They weren't at the end of the mountain—or the outside—at all. His tears evaporated from his face with the intense heat as they fell from his eyes.

Papyrus was breathing heavily and loosened his scarf from his neck—it was far too hot for him here.

“Sans?” he panted. “Maybe we should leave....”

He stared at his brother's back, wondering if he had heard him.

Sans remained motionless for a moment, then suddenly punched the bone fence hard. He was absolutely livid with himself—he was _so certain_ that the light was from the sun that he let himself get his hopes up, only to have them crushed, once again. He was so _stupid!_

Papyrus flinched with a gasp at the sound of his brother's fist against the bone and took a fearful step back. He wrung his hands, frowning sadly, convinced that his brother had punched the fence because he was furious at him for suggesting they leave. After finally feeling like his brother cared about him and wanted him alongside him on this journey, he went and said something that angered him. He was so _stupid!_

Sans turned around, the false grin painted on his face as he shut his eyes.

To Sans, it was to hide his utter, painful disappointment from his brother.

To Papyrus, it was to hide the ire his brother felt towards him.

“Yeah, you're right,” Sans said, tilting his grinning head slightly. “Let's go home—it's almost dinner time anyway. We can come back here another day and continue following the torches.”

Papyrus nodded slowly, giving a weak smile. “Yeah. Another day.”

Sans held out his hand, but it was only because he had to in order to transport his brother. Papyrus crept over to him sadly and took his rigid hand, feeling the trembling of rage in his brother's bones.

Then they were gone.


	40. Chapter 40

Papyrus was sitting up in the bed, yawning. He stretched his arms up over his head, tilting side to side, his bones popping and cracking. He gave Teddy a good morning hug and looked over—in the faint glow of the fire—at his brother next to him.

Sans was laying on his stomach, his arms folded up under his pillow. His head was facing the other way, towards the main room, but Papyrus could hear him softly snoring, so he could tell he was still sleeping soundly.

He didn't want to wake him, so he slowly inched himself out from under the blanket. He tucked Teddy in his place, as he normally did, and crawled over his pillow to get out of the bed at the head near the coat hooks.

As he was doing so, he accidentally leaned on his brother's pillow, causing Sans' head to shift. Sans groaned in his sleep and rolled over onto his side. Papyrus froze, afraid to move for fear of waking him up further. When Sans remained still, his breathing deepening back into that of sleep, Papyrus decided it was safe to move.

Unfortunately, since he was watching Sans instead of what he was doing, he tripped himself up and fell out of the bed, bounced off the floor with a yelp, and hit the boulder wall with his head, causing a loud _thwack._

Sans' head shot up, and he looked around blearily in the gloom.

“Huh?” he said, woozily. “Whazat?”

Papyrus couldn't contain his stifled moan of pain as he sat rubbing his bruised skull.

Sans rolled back onto his stomach and looked down at him on the floor.

“Papyrus?” he whispered.

“Yeah...,” the little skeleton mumbled.

“What are you doing?” Sans hissed angrily.

Papyrus winced from pain and from his brother's biting tone. “I fell. I'm sorry, Sans....”

“I'm trying to sleep,” Sans growled through grit teeth.

“I know...,” Papyrus said, looking down sheepishly.

“Be more quiet,” his brother demanded before rolling on his side again and settling his head back into his pillow.

Papyrus stayed on the floor for a while, feeling terrible for waking Sans up, and for making him angry. Once the snores from his brother started up again, he got to his feet.

He didn't dare make any blue bones to light up the main room, so he went into the fire room where it was much brighter and warmer. He took the pot of water that had melted overnight and poured it into the water bucket at the pantry wall, taking care to do it noiselessly. Then he packed the little pot with snow from the pile, returned to the fire room, and placed the pot at the left end of the basin on the row of bones stretching across.

Papyrus didn't know how much longer Sans was going to sleep, but at least he could get the food together so that he was ready to make breakfast when his brother roused.

He went back to the pantry, allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and pulled out the small, glass jars that were buried in the snow on the floor. They were former jam jars, washed out once the jam had been eaten up, and were currently containing overnight oatmeal. Every jar from items at the market had all found new uses—storing food, organizing items, stowing extra gold, even holding additional water.

Papyrus wiped the snow from the chilled jars and sat them on the prep table. He would heat up the oatmeal once he was done gathering the other food.

He reached up on tip-toes to grab the small jars of brown sugar and shelled mixed nuts for their oatmeal from the shelf, and placed them on the prep table also. Then he took down the mixed fruit jelly and soft honey wheat bread for their toast, but as he pulled the bread package, it bumped the grape jelly, knocking it off the shelf.

Before Papyrus could do anything, the jar hit the floor, shattering with a loud crash.

Sans shot straight up in the bed, gasping sharply at the noise. He panted, looking around for its source, then, in the faint firelight, he saw his brother staring timidly at him, the broken glass, and the blob of jelly splattered on the floor. It took him a moment to process what he was looking at, having been suddenly woken up from a dead sleep.

“Pap, what did you _do?!”_ Sans exclaimed.

Papyrus' face fell even further than it had already plummeted. “I-I dropped it....”

Sans tore the blanket from him and walked over, blinking awareness into his eyes as he created a blue bone to light the room. He looked at the mess and smacked his forehead with his hand, running it down over his face in frustration.

“Pap, I _just_ bought that,” he groaned. “We haven't even opened it yet....”

“I'm sorry, Sans,” Papyrus said in a small voice. “It was an accident....”

Sans stared at Papyrus with such a look of annoyed disappointment that the little skeleton had to tear his eyes away from his brother. He bit his bottom lip, trying to keep it from quivering as his tears begged to fall.

“I'll clean it up...,” he murmured sadly.

Sans pushed him out of the way, roughly, as he went into the fire room.

“No, you won't,” he said, his voice firm. “You'll just make a bigger mess, and I don't need you cutting yourself up with all that glass. _I'll_ get it. Sit on the bed, keep out of my way, and whatever you do, _don't_ touch anything else.”

Papyrus hung his head and walked slowly over to the bed and sat on the edge. He watched through tears as his brother angrily cleaned up his mess. Papyrus sighed sadly.

_I never should have done this myself. Now Sans has to do more work because of me. And he's even madder at me now._

Sans dug out the snow where the glass and jelly had landed and threw it in the cleaning bucket. Once the floor was free of shards and stickiness, he put handfuls of snow from the pile into the hole, fixing their floor.

“I'm going to dump this out and wash the bucket out thoroughly,” Sans said. “ _Don't_ do anything until I get back, ok?”

Papyrus nodded, shaking tears from his cheeks onto his lap.

“ _Ok?”_ Sans repeated, not settling on just a mere nod as an answer.

“Okay, Sans,” Papyrus replied softly, trying desperately to keep his voice steady.

Sans narrowed his eyes angrily at him, his glare cutting to Papyrus' very soul. Then he took a step forward and disappeared with the large, blue flame.

Papyrus couldn't hold back anymore—he swung around and flung himself onto his pillow, weeping loudly.

He couldn't do _anything_ right. No matter how hard he tried, he just could not stop making Sans upset.

He should have stayed in bed, should have waited until Sans woke up before moving, should have never woken up at all....

His muffled sobs echoed against the shelter wall by his side. By the time he had calmed himself—and he knew he had to do so quickly, since Sans would be back any moment—his pillow was utterly soaked from his tears. He sat up and wiped his face on his sleeves, his body heaving from his stuttered breathing.

When Sans returned, he didn't even glance at Papyrus as he stormed into the fire room to return the bucket. He dropped it on the floor and the metal handle clanged loudly, which made Papyrus flinch. Then Sans came back into the main room, creating three more blue bones to fully light the shelter for the day.

Papyrus didn't dare move, preferring to be unseen than yelled at again.

Sans went over to the food prep table, saw the oatmeal and other food already gathered, and went to work on making breakfast. He grumbled and huffed as he did so, until he placed their food on the little snow table and sat down with a heavy sigh, holding his head in his hands as he stared at his feet.

When Papyrus didn't budge, Sans spoke to him as he kept looking at the floor.

“Come and eat breakfast,” he mumbled, his tone low and far less angry.

The little skeleton slid off the bed and crept over to his seat and sat down, but didn't touch his food. All he could do was stare at what his brother had made for him.

The overnight oatmeal had been warmed up and was now mixed with the brown sugar and chopped mixed nuts, and sat beside honey wheat toast with mixed fruit jelly and apple wedges slathered with peanut butter.

Neither brother moved for a while. The only sound came from the magical flame, gently crackling in the other room.

Sans heaved another sigh, then picked up his spoon and started eating. Papyrus still didn't move—he felt like he didn't deserve to eat such a wonderfully prepared breakfast after what he'd done this morning.

As Sans bit into his toast, he looked over at his brother.

“Aren't you eating?” he asked.

“M'not hungry...,” Papyrus mumbled sadly.

“You're not hungry?” Sans uttered, his eyebrows furrowed again downward in anger. “First you wake me up—twice! Then you make a mess for me to clean up and waste food I just bought the other day. Now you won't even eat the breakfast I _had_ to make because _you_ couldn't be careful to make it yourself?!”

Papyrus winced with each point, his head and shoulders sinking lower and lower. He wanted to cry again, but held back his tears. Instead, he picked up his own spoon with trembling fingers and started eating, even though he felt sick to his stomach.

“That's better,” Sans grumbled, then ignored his brother for the rest of the meal.

After breakfast, Sans took their dishes and put them in the empty cleaning bucket for later, then put on his haversack and jacket.

“I'm going to that rubbish pit,” he told Papyrus flatly as he shouldered his bag. “I'll be back soon. _Please_ don't break anything else while I'm gone.”

“I won't,” the little skeleton mumbled softly, sitting on the bed, where he thought it was best he should be so he wasn't in Sans' way.

Without another word, Sans disappeared through the large, blue flame, leaving the little skeleton on his own again.

Papyrus sighed sadly and looked down at his hands in his lap. He had really messed up that morning. Perhaps if he did the dishes before Sans got home, as well as a few other things that needed to be done, his brother wouldn't be so upset with him.

He slid off the bed and went into the fire room, putting the long bones against the wall over the magical flame and setting the pot of melting snow on them so that it would heat up. While he waited for that, he made the bed, went outside and got several armfuls of snow to refill their pile, and added a piece of wood to the fire basin.

Now that the water in the pot was quite warm, he poured it into the cleaning bucket and filled it back up with snow to melt some more. Then he started washing the dishes, making sure to do an impeccable job that even Sans had to be happy about. After rinsing them with clean, cold water from the glass jars stored nearby, he placed each dish on the bone drying rack on the floor Sans had created so the excess water dripped off before towel drying.

Papyrus looked at the rough cloth pile, but there was only a single piece left. He tilted his head curiously, looking around, finding it odd that the others had disappeared. At least he had the one, so he took it, dried off the dishes, and put them away up on their shelf.

He hung the rough cloth on the warming rack to dry, then brought the bucket of dirty water outside to empty. He came back in, rinsed and scrubbed the empty bucket, then went back outside, emptying it once more. Now completely clean, he dried the bucket off with the rough cloth before rehanging it on the warming rack.

He smiled to himself, feeling quite accomplished, and hoped that when Sans saw that he didn't have to do the dishes, or collect snow, make the bed, or fuel the fire, he would be in a better mood.

As he waited for Sans to return home, Papyrus sat on the made bed, on top of the blanket, and stared at the ceiling. He wished that he could erase the events of that morning like oatmeal off a bowl with soap....

Sans returned home—soaked, naked, and holding his clothes in front of him. Papyrus rolled on his side as soon as he heard the _fwoosh_ to give his brother privacy. His brother, shivering, rushed into the fire room.

“ _Why is the only cloth left soaked?!”_ Sans cried out from the other room, his voice high from cold and agitation.

Papyrus gasped, clenching his fists and shutting his eyes tight as he continued facing the wall. Of _course_ he would forget that his brother needed a cloth to dry off with after trips to the refuse pit. And of _course_ he would find a way to use it so that Sans couldn't dry himself off.

Papyrus listened to Sans grunting in frustration as he dried himself off with the soaking wet cloth. Then he heard him get dressed into dry clothes, struggling to get them on over his damp bones.

“C-could you please g-get off the bed,” he grumbled through chattering teeth. “I n-need to warm up s-since you used the only cl-cloth.”

Papyrus jumped off the bed quickly as Sans pulled the blanket up and climbed into the bed, cocooning himself in the blanket.

“Why did you even make the bed this early?” Sans asked from within the blankets. “And why, on earth, did you think it was a good idea to choose while I was out to do the dishes? You knew I needed to dry myself from the bath out there. There was a reason I didn't do the dishes right after breakfast.”

“I...I was just...trying to help,” Papyrus explained, feeling fresh tears welling up.

“Yeah, well, you didn't help at all, did you,” Sans grunted, then pulled the blanket up over his head and rolled over.

Papyrus went into the fire room, sat against the far boulder wall, and wept silently.

After his tears had spent, he realized that it was close to dinnertime, and needed to start getting the meal ready. He wiped his eyes and gathered the food, chopping, slicing, and cutting as silently as possible while his brother napped.

He decided to make toasted sandwiches and tomato soup, his brother's favorite meal. First, he emptied the water from the pot into the clean water bucket, then—carefully—took down the jar of soup from the shelf, opened it—quietly—and poured the contents into the little pot. He set it on the bones over the flame, then prepared the bread, cheese, mushrooms, pickled cucumbers, and tomatoes for the sandwiches. Once they were assembled, he put the sandwiches on the bones next to the pot to toast and melt.

Surely, Papyrus figured as he got the dishes down from the shelf, Sans would be happier when he saw that dinner was something he loved. He laid out the plates and bowls on the prep table and went back into the fire room. The moment he entered, he gasped sharply.

The bread of the sandwiches had charred and was smoking, and the soup had boiled down to a thick, inedible paste. He had _only_ stepped away to get the dishes!

Before he could do anything, Sans was behind him.

“What's burni— _what happened?!”_

Papyrus turned around to see his brother, staring wide eyed at the abominations over the fire, holding the sides of his head in disbelief and dismay.

Pushing his brother aside, Sans removed the burnt sandwiches from the bones with metal tongs and quickly carried them to the prep table to put on one of the plates. Then he took the pot off the fire and poured water from one of the jars into it. It hissed and sizzled, steam mixing with the smoke filling the room. When the pot had sufficiently cooled down, Sans stuck his hand into it, trying to remove the hardened blob of former soup, to no avail.

“Oh no,” Sans whined. “It's burned to the pot. The pot's ruined now!”

Papyrus cringed, unable to say anything or move.

Sans looked into the fire basin. “Oh, no wonder....”

He whipped around to his brother, angrily. “Did you add wood to the fire?!”

“Yeah...,” Papyrus answered softly, his face downcast.

“What were you thinking?!” Sans yelled, shaking the pot in his hand. “You made it too hot! It overheated everything!”

“I just...,” the little skeleton whimpered. “I just...wanted...to help....”

“You could have burned down the whole place!” Sans shouted, his face furious. “You wasted all this food, you ruined our only pot—which was expensive, by the way—and now there's smoke everywhere. That's _not_ helping!”

“I'm sorry, Sans...,” Papyrus whispered, tears rolling down his face.

“Sorry doesn't cut it!” Sans growled through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing in fury.

He stormed out of the room with the pot still in his hand, disappeared in the blue flame, then returned a moment later—without the pot. Papyrus realized he must have gone to throw it away in the rubbish pit and felt sick to his stomach once again.

Sans shoved the burnt sandwiches into the compost bag, then climbed back into bed, wrapping himself up tightly in the blanket with his back to his brother.

Papyrus hadn't moved from the threshold of the fire room. He was light headed from sorrow and shame. His knees gave out and he slumped to the floor, weeping silently, his very soul feeling like it had burned away with the soup.

He cried for a while as his brother slept, and when the tears stopped falling, he caught sight of Sans' dirty clothes, sitting in the laundry bucket. The least he could do was clean them for his brother, especially after all he had done that day.

Without warm water, he had to fill the bucket with cold, nearly frigid water. As he scrubbed, his hands burned from the frosty water temperature, but he didn't care. They soon became numb, his fingers barely feeling the fabric and soap clutched within them. He lifted his brother's shirt to see if the stains had come out, and saw that there were still a few spots in need of more scrubbing. So he dunked it deep into the bucket, and as he did, he heard a loud, wet tear.

He looked at the side of the bucket, where the metal handle looped around the hole, and caught on the sharp, metal end was part of Sans' shirt. Papyrus freed it quickly, then held it up, just as his brother looked up from the bed.

“What was that noi— _what have you done?!”_ he shrieked in horror.

The shirt hung in Papyrus' outstretched hands, displaying a large tear running from the right shoulder to the left hip.

Sans ran over to the shirt, snatching it from his brother's frozen fingertips. He clutched the sodden fabric as he fell to his knees, his face broken in a sorrowful grimace.

“This was my favorite shirt!” he cried, his voice quivering. “This is the shirt I had from before we got to this mountain! Mom and Dad gave me this, it was special to me!” He turned and looked at Papyrus, a look of deep hurt in his eyes. “And you ruined it!”

Papyrus could _not_ feel any worse than he did at that moment. Tears fell down his face, but he couldn't say a word.

Sans slammed the shirt down into the laundry bucket, splashing the water on him and his brother.

“Do you have any idea what you have done?!” he hissed, pointing angrily at Papyrus. “You've ruined something precious to me. You've ruined almost everything today—food, our pot, my shirt. What is _wrong_ with you?!”

He stood up, pacing with frustration and fury, holding his head in his hands as if trying to stop it from splitting. All Papyrus could do was kneel there, next to the bucket, watching his brother, as he cried softly.

Suddenly Sans turned and faced his brother, unleashing a tirade upon him.

“You are absolutely _useless,_ you know that?! All you do is mess up, time after time. You never do _anything_ right. You can't even do the easy stuff! I have done _so much_ for you—I took care of you, fed you, made sure you had a home and a bed to sleep in—and _this_ is how you pay me back?! I should have dumped you at the orphanage when I had the chance. I should have let _them_ deal with you, instead of being stuck with you myself. I wish you'd have the sense in your skull to go live somewhere else. I wish we had left you back at the house when we escaped. I wish...I wish....”

He hesitated, breathing heavily, then narrowed his eyes, glowering lividly, and gritting his teeth tightly as he hissed.

“ _I wish I never had you for a brother._ ”

Papyrus flinched at the statement, as if slapped across the face. Before he could say or do anything, Sans grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him across the floor. Papyrus squirmed and struggled, crying out for Sans to let him go as he was brought to the shelter opening. Sans opened the entrance and thrust his brother outside into the snowstorm.

“Get away from me,” Sans snarled. “I never want to see you again.”

With that, he created white bones, barring the entrance, then sealed up the entrance with snow against the bones.

Papyrus fell to his knees, clinging on to the bones that locked him out, and wept against them bitterly as the storm raged around him. His sobs of apologies and shouts begging to be let back in were lost in the harsh winds buffeting him.

Then Papyrus woke up.

He sat straight up in the bed, sweating profusely and panting hard. He looked over and saw Sans, fast asleep on his side of the bed. As he struggled to catch his breath, Papyrus wiped the tears that he had shed in his sleep. He was confused and shaken—had it all been a dream? But it had felt so real, as if everything he just went through had happened the day before.

He swallowed hard, took another look at his brother, and slid back under the covers. He didn't want his brother to wake up and be worried about him—or would he be angry?

Papyrus lay awake for some time, staring at the ceiling above him, the events of the dream replaying over and over again in his mind. And the tears kept falling.


	41. Chapter 41

The dark mist of sleep slowly eased away as Sans reached the surface of awareness. He gave a small, whispered grunt as he woke, really wishing that he could continue sleeping. He opened one eye, then the other, and blinked in the dim firelight cast from the other room.

He rolled over on his side and grinned softly. Papyrus was still asleep, clutching Teddy tightly. Sans reached over and stroked the top of his little brother's head like he did when he was younger.

“We had a fun adventure yesterday, huh, Pap?” he whispered softly, expecting no answer from his snoozing brother. “Just like the old days. We should do it again soon....”

The dull ache in his left hand reminded him of how their adventure had ended abruptly. He sighed sadly, recalling the utter disappointment and heartbreak that had caused him to punch the bone fence with all his might.

Papyrus gave a small twitch in his sleep, followed by a tiny grunt.

Sans stroked his brother's forehead gently, laughing softly to himself.

“Heh, having a dream, huh?” he whispered with a grin. “Hope it's a fun one.”

He gave Papyrus one last pat upon the head and carefully got out of bed. He stood up and stretched, his bones popping and cracking the sleep out. Then he walked into the fire room to start the morning's chores.

As he grabbed the pot of water off the side of the basin, he looked at the dancing magical flame. The flickering red, yellow, and orange reminded him of the magma in that new area they had discovered—the one that had fooled him into thinking that he was looking at the sunset and was close to the end of the mountain.

The sadness seeped into his soul as he stood, mesmerized by the wavering flame that had given them warmth and light since the beginning of their life trapped in the mountain years ago. How much longer would they be imprisoned in this massive, hollow rock?

He had spent years secretly searching for their father during his trips to the purple city. He was unable to seek help or information since they were still too young to be on their own, and he still wasn't sure how many other monsters thought skeletons were traitors to their kind. After so long without a trace of him or any other skeleton, Sans began to wonder if he and his brother were the only two skeletons in Mt. Ebott.

Since he could still feel their father's presence in his soul, he considered that he might have been trapped outside, just as their mother had been, and was living back at their home in the forest. Seeing the colors of sunset got Sans' hopes up that they had finally found the exit from Mt. Ebott and gotten one step closer to finding their father.

Sans blinked back tears.

_No. Don't start now. Papyrus will be up soon, you can't let him see you cry._

He tore his eyes away from the flame and got back to doing his chores, doing all he could to keep his mind off that new place and the heartbreak it had given him.

Sans sat at the little dining table, resting a moment after having just finished the pre-breakfast tasks. He kept looking over at his brother, who was still asleep in the bed.

 _He must have been really tuckered out from yesterday's trip,_ Sans thought. _Well, it_ has _been a while since we walked that far on foot._

He rested his head on his hands as he leaned on the table with his elbows, his eyes never leaving Papyrus.

_Poor kid.... He was so sad after the trip.... It must have been hard on him, thinking we were that close to escaping...._

A slow smile grew on Sans' downcast face.

_I know he prefers making breakfast, but.... I'm going to make it today—a nice big one! That will cheer him up!_

Sans immediately got up and got to work, humming softly as he did so.

Papyrus grunted, his face screwing up as he roused. He opened his eyes and blinked, staring at the wall next to him. He clutched Teddy tightly as the dream that had replayed repeatedly since he went back to sleep echoed in his mind.

“ _Get away from me. I never want to see you again.”_

He whimpered into Teddy's fur softly as his brother's words rang in his ears.

“Pap?” Sans called from behind him. “You 'wake?”

Papyrus rolled onto his back and looked over at his brother, seated at the table in front of a breakfast spread. Sans' eyebrows were upturned with a hint of sorrow, but his smile was brimming with happiness—however, all Papyrus could see was the anger hiding behind those emotions.

“I made breakfast,” Sans said with a soft, cheery tone, gesturing to his brother's food at his place.

 _Oh no,_ Papyrus thought, looking at the table. _I overslept! Sans had to make breakfast because I didn't wake up in time._

Sans winced when he saw Papyrus' face fall at the sight of the table.

 _Oh no,_ Sans thought. _He's hurt that I made breakfast instead of him...._

Papyrus sighed softly. He was still unnerved by his nightmare, and felt sick to his stomach when he saw that Sans had made breakfast, just like he had in the dream. He opened his mouth to say “I'm not hungry,” but decided against it, remembering the explosive reaction that statement had had.

Slowly and timidly, Papyrus slid out of the bed and crept over to his seat. He looked at the breakfast Sans had prepared: vanilla granola cereal with chopped nuts, sliced bananas, and milk, honey wheat toast with strawberry jelly, and apple wedges with peanut butter. He picked up his spoon and slowly began to eat.

Sans, who had waited until his brother started before eating his own breakfast, shut his eyes and sighed silently.

 _He looks miserable now...,_ he thought. _I should have let him do it—he always seems happier when he makes our food...._

The two brothers ate their breakfast slowly, appetites lost to sadness and fear, the silence at the table hiding the voices of worry, shame, and despair plaguing their own minds.

Papyrus insisted on doing the dishes after breakfast, since Sans had gone to the trouble of making their meal for him. Sans sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands, his elbows digging into his thighbones.

The disappointment from the day before coupled with somehow making his brother feel worse made his lungs heavy with deep sighs. He had planned on going to the refuse pit today, but no longer had the energy to go. He felt the heat in his face as the tears threatened to spill, and decided to go to his little nook to release them.

He stood up and went over to the book crates and picked up the journal Ashen had given him—it was the one with the most happy memories within the pages. His soul gave a throb—memories of days past that reminded him of how his brother used to want to be with him, used to spend time with him playing, laughing, exploring, and learning, used to...used to love his big brother more than anything....

“Pap,” his voice cracked as his throat tightened from his pent up sobs. He cleared his throat, then continued in a better tone. “I'll be back later....”

Papyrus held the dish he was rinsing, his soul dropping slightly as he knew that meant Sans was going to be alone in his special hideaway. To hide away from him....

Sans shut his eyes tightly, holding back the tears that wouldn't wait, as he grabbed his jacket, put it on, and stuffed the journal inside. Papyrus hadn't answered him, but it wasn't uncommon for his brother to ignore him, as if he wasn't worthy of a response.

And that was true...he wasn't worthy....

Sans took a step, arrived at the tiny nook, and collapsed on the cushion and large pillow, crying loudly and uncontrollably, his soul overflowing with grief.

Papyrus had heard the _fwoosh_ sound of his brother's disappearance and sighed sadly. During breakfast and the dishes, the dream kept running through his mind. It had been so real, he wasn't even sure if it had been a dream at all.

All he knew was that the dream was _too_ close to being real. And even if his brother had never said or done those things, surely he wanted to. Surely the Sans from his dream was stating things the real Sans _wished_ he could say.

He put away the dishes, then sat on the bed, thinking. He turned around to his side of the bed and pulled Teddy out from under the blanket. He hugged him tightly, his eyes closed, and rubbed his face against the bear's soft, brown fur.

“Teddy...,” he whispered softly into his plush ear. “What am I going to do...?”

“ _I wish you'd have the sense in your skull to go live somewhere else.”_

Papyrus grunted softly as he winced, his brother's words from the dream stinging his soul sharply. Then he opened his eyes, realizing what he had to do. He looked down at his bear and nodded solemnly.

“He's right, Teddy...,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “He's better off without me....”

Papyrus got up off the bed and went over to the coat hooks, taking down the little bag his brother had made for him ages ago. He went back to the bed and placed Teddy inside, but the bear was too big for the bag—his head poked out of the top.

Seeing Teddy like that made Papyrus think of how Sans had carried him in his haversack when they first came to the mountain, and how his head would poke out of the bag in the same manner. The memory made him whimper, but he shook it off—those days were long gone.

He looked around and spotted the basket of his tiny white bones. He brought the basket over to the bed and stuffed the bones inside the bag around Teddy. With the last bone inside, the bag now had no room for anything else, so he pulled the rope handles tight, closing up the bag under Teddy's chin.

The little skeleton racked his brains a moment, then ran into the fire room, over to the pile of old burlap against the wall. He found a large piece, went back to the bed, and laid it out.

He went into the fire room and took down all his clothes from the warming racks, including his fluffy red socks. Then he went to the pantry and grabbed a few apples, some carrots, a couple bananas, and a small pouch of dried fruit, then placed everything in the center of the burlap.

He rushed back over to the pantry and made himself a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, wrapping them together in a piece of parchment paper and tying the bundle with twine. Then he sliced some cheese from the different wedges, and wrapped them in parchment paper and twine as well. He brought the parcels over to the burlap and stood back to consider the food.

 _That should last me a while,_ he thought with a sad sigh.

He brought up the four corners of the burlap and tied them, bundling the food. He tested the weight—it was heavy, but manageable. He glanced at his bag, smaller than the food bundle, and wished he had a big haversack like his brother.

He thought for a moment, then created a long, loose white bone and tied the bundle to the end of the bone. With a grunt, he lifted it up over himself, resting the bone on his shoulder as he held onto it near the other end, the bundle dangling by his shoulder blade. It was much easier to carry the food this way, so—satisfied—he laid it back down on the bed.

He went back to the coat hooks and pulled down his long, red scarf. He folded it in half, then wrapped it around his neck, making sure the long ends hung against his back. Then he returned to the bed, put on his bag, took up the food bundle, and went to the opening.

Papyrus gave one last, sad look around the little shelter. He was going to miss it terribly, but he knew his brother would be happier here without him.

He wiped his tears on his sleeve, then went to the entrance, dug himself out, sealed it back up again, and headed off.

Sans laid on his stomach, his head on its side, eyes staring at the curved roof overhang, but not really seeing anything except the thoughts running through his mind. His eyes and throat were sore from crying so much, and now he was merely laying there, too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to do anything else.

He had spent the better part of the day dealing with the pain from the disappointment of yesterday. Eventually, he came to realize that although it wasn't the end of the mountain, it wasn't the end of the world. It was only a setback. All they had to do was keep following the torch-lit trail—finding where it had picked up after the caved-in tunnel was a major breakthrough. He just needed to keep being patient, keep progressing through the mountain, and keep motivated. He and Papyrus would find the end someday.

_Papyrus...._

He remembered how scared his brother had been yesterday, and how he didn't seem to mind holding his big brother's hand as they made their way through. It felt so wonderful to feel like his little brother wanted him alongside him. Even if it was just for a short time....

Which it had been, since, soon after they left the area with the magma, Papyrus had gone back to his usual, despondent self. The happy, upbeat brother of his who looked up to him, admired him, enjoyed time with him...he was long gone.

Sans shifted, pulling his arms up to fold under the pillow. He felt the hard cover of his journal digging into his ribs. He had no desire to read from it. It hurt too much to read about days long past that reminded him of how much he had lost.

Losing his parents was heartbreaking.

Losing his relationship with brother was unbearable.

Reading about the happier times with Papyrus tore at Sans' soul because he knew that his brother had grown apart from him since then. Now it seemed like his brother didn't want anything to do with him at all. He was miserable all the time, and no matter what he tried, Sans could _not_ make his brother happy.

Sans turned his head, burying his face in the pillow.

_Maybe if I just stayed here forever, he would be happier...._

The memory of his scared little brother—staring up at the jagged crag—flashed through his mind. He looked so terrified. Although he didn't want Papyrus to get upset at him for offering to hold his hand like a babybones, he had held his hand out anyway. At that moment, seeing the fear in his brother's face, he didn't care if Papyrus told him off because he was “all grown up.” All he wanted to do was be there for his scared little brother.

And then his brother ran too him. Was he running to be protected by him, or running away from the spookiness of outside the crag? No, the more he thought about it, the more he knew Papyrus had run to him—to his outstretched hand. He could have hurried past him, but instead, he ran to _him_ and clutched his hand.

Sans clenched the hand his brother had held, remembering the feeling of it. He'd felt so happy, like part of the past had been pulled through to the present. He wanted to feel that way again.

He rolled over onto his back and stared at the curved roof. Maybe he should suggest going on another adventure tomorrow, following the trail. Discovering more, together. Maybe they'd be lucky and find the exit tomorrow.

 _Yeah,_ Sans smiled at the ceiling. _He likes adventures, and it's something we don't do that much anymore. Maybe going back there tomorrow will bring more of the old Pap back._

He sat up, feeling better and more hopeful.

He'd lost track of time, but he was sure it was late, maybe even dinnertime. He'd go back and discuss the trip with his brother—perhaps even planning it out would make him feel less sad. Sans felt a rush of excitement, imagining the smile on his little brother's face again.

He stood up and stepped forward. The loud _fwoosh_ and blast of wind filled his hearing, then there was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling in the basin.

Sans opened his eyes, expecting to see his brother on the bed or on the floor, playing. He was in neither place.

The silence in the shelter sent a shiver up his spine. It was _too_ quiet.

“Pap?” Sans called softly as he went into the fire room.

He wasn't there, either.

Sans felt a chilled wave of fear wash over him, his breath catching deep in his lungs.

_No...._

He ran to the opening and bent down. The entrance was sealed.

He transported outside, circled the shelter as he panned the length of his vision, searching for any sign of his brother. There was nothing.

He looked around for footprints, but the constant snowfall hid any traces of which direction he had gone. There was no way to follow him.

He transported back to the main room, his breathing quickening too much as he looked around frantically.

He saw the basket that held his tiny white bones on the ground near the bed—empty. He glanced at his brother's pillow and saw that Teddy was missing from his usual spot in his brother's place. As he turned, he noticed that the pile of fruit and vegetables in the dug-out bowl on the pantry floor was much smaller than it had been that morning. He staggered into the fire room and gasped sharply when he saw his brother's clothes missing from the warming racks.

_No...._

Sans felt sick. Light-headed. Panicked.

Papyrus wasn't in the shelter, and all his things were gone, too.

Sans' greatest fear had finally come true—his brother had left him.

He shakily made his way back to the bed, breathing in quick, panicked gasps. As he neared the edge, he fell to his knees at the bedside, his chest heavy with sorrow. He outstretched his left arm across the bed, onto his brother's empty side, and buried his face on his folded right arm as he started to weep bitterly, his soul torn to shreds.

“...Papyrus....”


	42. Chapter 42

Sans laid on the floor, curled up on his side, staring into nothingness. His tears were spent, his lungs sore from the painful sobs that had torn from them for hours. He felt numb, hollow, and detached from the reality he had just been thrust into.

He wouldn't get into the bed—his brother's empty side was too excruciating to bear. So he lay where he had collapsed, on the cold, hard, snow-packed floor. The risk of chilling to the bone while laying against the snow didn't matter to him.

_Nothing_ mattered to him. Not anymore.

Papyrus stopped and looked around, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He had been wandering in a single direction for ages, having no idea where to go except towards the darkened area so that he was near the edible mushrooms that would be his only food source once his packed food had been consumed.

There was nothing but white all around him. The cold, desolate valley seemed more empty than he had ever remembered. It underscored the fact that he was all alone, and always would be.

The winds were gentle, and the snowfall was soft. Normally he'd be thrilled by this weather, but he couldn't be happy about it, or anything at all, ever again.

His tired legs buckled slightly under the weight of his burdens. He knew he needed to seek shelter soon, so he chose a spot and set to work building up a mound of snow.

Sans hadn't moved. There was no real reason to. He could stay there on the floor for the rest of his life, and that would be fine with him.

He didn't want to sleep, even though he was severely exhausted. To him, sleep was a comforting rest, a reward for a good day well spent, and he didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve anything other than the tortured pain he was in right now.

Part of him wanted to search the entire mountain for his brother. The rest of his senses kicked that notion to the ground violently. What a stupid idea. His brother had left because of him. If he found Papyrus, what was he going to do? Force him to keep living with someone he hated being with?

No. Papyrus was gone, and he was never coming back.

Papyrus sat on the snowy ground, panting from exertion as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He had been working on the mound for quite a while—building it up and out, then digging his way into one side, hollowing it from the inside as he packed the snow tight to the rounded walls and ceiling.

By the time he had finished, it was large enough for him to crawl in, sit, and lay down, with just enough space around him for his bag and food bundle. From the outside, it looked like a small, snow covered boulder, so he was safely hidden.

He wasn't as talented as his brother, so he could never hope to make a shelter as wonderful as the one his brother had designed—the one he had left forever.... But this tiny shelter would do for the night.

Picking up his things, he crawled into the small space and covered the entryway with snow, sealing him in darkness. Then he created a blue bone which brilliantly illuminated his small structure.

A yawn crept up on him, and he realized how late it must be and how exhausted he was. He opened the food bundle, made the white bone disappear to save space, and laid the burlap piece down on the floor to sleep on. Then he rolled up his shirts and pants into a makeshift pillow for his head and placed it down, fluffing it into a better shape. Realizing that he needed something to cover him, he unwrapped his scarf from around his neck, unfolded it to its full length, and draped the long, red strip of thick fabric over himself from his feet to his chin. He took Teddy out from the bag and cuddled up with him on the floor, shivering on the freshly packed snow. How he missed the cozy warmth of the magical flame and thick blanket back home....

Sans woke up with a gasp, his heart racing. He had dreamt of when his brother was lost in the snow and he had found him near death. Except this time, Papyrus' HP fell to 0, and he dusted while wrapped in the warmed fabric scraps, in Sans' arms.

His eyes darted around frantically, and he realized he was on the floor. He picked himself up to his hands and knees with a pained grunt—sleeping on the hard, cold floor had made his bones extremely stiff. He rose to the edge of the bed quickly, panting in fear of finding his brother's dust, but when he saw the bed, his breath caught in the back of his throat.

There was no dust, nor was there a pile of fabric scraps. The purple and violet blanket covered the bed up to their pillows, with a little bear-sized gap of folds where Teddy had been tucked in.

The fear from the dream drifted as the reality of his living nightmare washed over him.

That's right. His brother hadn't died, he had left him. He was gone because he didn't want to be with his brother anymore.

Fresh tears spilled from Sans' eyes as he rested his chin on the bed, staring at his brother's vacant pillow, wishing that he himself would dust.

Papyrus woke up the next morning, stiff from sleeping on the ground and sore from his trek the night before. When he opened his eyes, there was pitch darkness, and he gasped, forgetting where he was. He created a blue bone to light the tiny shelter, and he remembered all that had happened. A deep, sad sigh heaved through him.

Sitting up, he stretched, popping his bones loudly as he grunted. A shiver ran through him when the scarf slid off. He huddled himself, rubbing his upper arms vigorously. One thing was certain—he was going to need to get fire for the next shelter.

Glancing at the food spread out on the floor, he considered breakfast, but he wasn't hungry. He still felt sick from his heartache. There was no sense forcing himself to eat from the limited food supplies he had, so he pulled the burlap out from under himself and re-bundled the food and his clothes.

Once he was packed up, he dug out of the little shelter and stood up, stretching his back as he panned his eyes around. There was nothing but snow, some boulders and stone formations dotting the valley, and more snow.

Part of him wished he saw Sans, but he shook his head to wipe the notion away. The last thing Sans would be doing was coming out this far to look for the one he was glad to be rid of.

Papyrus made the blue bone disappear, flattened the shelter, then created another long, white bone to help him carry the food bundle. Looking around once more, he sighed, then moved on.

Sans woke up with a whimper. Once again, he had dreamt of finding his brother buried in the snow, near death, then dying in his arms.

His head was still on the edge of the bed where he had cried himself to sleep. He sat back, grunting painfully as his back had gone out from leaning against the bedside awkwardly in his sleep. His legs were numb, and it took a moment for him to move them out from under himself, his knees cracking loudly as he unbent them.

Once he had untangled himself, he sat, cross-legged, on the floor next to the bed, leaning forward as his head hung sorrowfully. The vision of his brother, covered in snow, would not get out of his mind.

He remembered that awful day as if it had happened yesterday. A shudder went through him when he thought about what would have happened if he had found him just a bit later than he had....

And now, Papyrus was out there in the frigid cold again, and had been gone far longer than that day years ago. He could be _anywhere_.

Sans buried his face in his hands as he started weeping again.

Once again, the image of his brother just _barely_ visible under all the snow that had fallen and blown onto his motionless body stuck his mind, his red scarf flapping in the wind, signaling for help desperately.

The sobs tore from him as he rocked slowly, forward and back, the pain far too much for him to bear. The sorrow of losing his brother mingled with the growing hatred he held for himself, ripping at his soul like shards of glass.

Papyrus had travelled through the valley all morning and most of the afternoon. The darkened area was only just coming into his view. The little skeleton panted as he looked at the darkness up ahead, missing his brother's teleportation magic greatly. The valley seemed much more vast when one had to traverse it by foot.

The grumble of his stomach alerted him to the fact that he had not eaten for a very long time, and his legs wouldn't mind a rest as well.

He plopped down onto the ground, trying to catch his breath as he opened up the food bundle and unwrapped the sandwich parcel. Knowing that he needed the sandwiches to last as long as possible, he tore the peanut butter and jelly sandwich in half and put one half back with the others, re-wrapping them.

Papyrus looked down at the remaining torn sandwich half and sighed sadly. Sans always made better sandwiches than he did—the peanut butter just the right thickness on the bread, the jelly spread evenly with no large globs. His soul ached when he recalled the other day when his brother had handed him one of his amazing sandwiches, smiling at him as he ate it with joy.

Tears filled Papyrus' eyes as he kept staring at the sandwich half, the snowflakes landing upon it and melting on impact. He missed it when Sans smiled at him. He missed Sans....

He shook his head, wiping the thoughts out of it.

_No. Stop thinking about him. It hurts too much. He's happier now without you._

With a sigh, he ate his too-thick peanut butter and jelly globbed sandwich, sniffling as the snowflakes whisked around him.

Sans was laying on his stomach on the floor again. He'd cried until his tears ran out, but he knew they would return any moment. The weight of sorrow was crushing him like a boulder placed on his back. His soul felt like it had dimmed in his chest, devoid of any hope or joy.

Maybe it would dim enough and go out, and he'd dust away....

The crackling of the fire in the other room echoed off the walls. The sound was deafening to Sans. It was the sound of coziness, comfort, warmth, and happier times.

Like when he taught Papyrus to roast food over the fire, him sitting in his lap, his hands covering those of his brother's as he helped him with the broken spear. Just like his father had done with him when he was Papyrus' age. The warmth washed over them in warm, gentle waves, flushing their faces so that their cheekbones tingled. The look of absolute pride on his brother's face when he successfully roasted his first bit of food melted Sans' heart like the mushroom and cheese sandwich he had helped his brother make.

The crackling was too loud. It told him how much he didn't deserve to be the one who lived in the comfortable shelter while his brother was out there, roaming around in the bitter cold because he wanted to escape his horrible brother.

Sans should be the one to live out in the valley, not his brother. Papyrus did nothing wrong. Why should he suffer when Sans was the one who deserved it?

He sat up.

_I have to find him,_ he told himself. _He shouldn't be out there. I need to find him, and when I do, I'll tell him that he can stay here, and_ I'll _be the one who goes. He shouldn't be without the fire, the bed, food, safety.... I_ have _to find him, before he...he...._

He shut his eyes, shuddering at the thought of his little brother dusting off into the wind.

And with that, Sans stood up, went to the pantry to get a pouch of dried fruit to replenish the magic he would be using up, and disappeared from the shelter. The fire continued crackling, watching over the brothers' little home.

Papyrus knew it was getting late, so he built another hollowed out snow mound near the torch-lit path. He made this one wider so that he could bring fire into it, ensuring a much warmer night's sleep.

Now he just needed the fire.

The little skeleton stared up at one of the torches, its magical flame flickering in the wintry wind. All he had to do was break it like Sans had done to get their fire. Surely it couldn't be that difficult?

He raised his right hand and four white bones shot out from the snow on different sides, all aimed at a spot a foot down from the torch. The thick, wooden pole cracked as the four epiphyses crushed into it at the same point.

Smiling to himself, Papyrus raised his hand again, making the bones disappear so that the torch could fall onto the ground for him to pick up and take to his shelter.

Unfortunately, a sliver of the pole remained intact, and without the bones holding it up, the torch swung down, clinging to the thin strip of wooden fibers. The torch banged against the lower portion of its pole, which ignited with the magical fire. Soon, the entire pole was engulfed in flames.

Papyrus stepped back timidly, the blazing fire covering him in its vivid light and intense heat.

“Uh oh...,” he whispered, staring helplessly at what he had done.

He tossed snow onto the burning pole, but the magical fire merely melted the snow into a vapor with a hiss.

Unable to do anything, the little skeleton fled back to the little shelter, torch-less.

Sans appeared in yet another section of the valley. He staggered slightly, all the teleporting taking its toll on him. Panting, he shoved a dried apple in his mouth and chewed, scanning the area for his brother.

He had started out at the purple cavern side of the valley and was working his way towards the darkened area, teleporting strategically across the land. If he didn't find him by the time he reached the area with magma, he would start over again near the purple cavern.

Sans narrowed his eyes as they swept across the infinite white landscape. Something caught his eye, but it wasn't his brother. It was a distant light source—something he'd never seen in all his years in the valley.

He teleported closer, his eyes widening as he looked out through the snow.

The small pinpricks of light from the familiar line of torches were barely visible, but unmistakable. In the midst of the pathway, a thin, bright light shone through the distance.

_Is that...?_ he wondered, now squinting to focus his vision. _Did one of the torches light completely on fire?_

Sensing that it might have something to do with his brother, he teleported to the torch-lit path and gasped when he saw the broken torch pole, burning intensely. He approached it cautiously and noticed that it had been broken above the midpoint of the pole. Looking at the snow around it, he saw four distinct holes, evenly placed in the snow.

_Papyrus did this...,_ he told himself. _He's got to be nearby!_

He looked around, his eyes frantically searching for any other signs of his brother, then saw the snow mound. If he hadn't been paying attention, he would have mistaken it for a boulder, but his eyes caught the small opening.

His heart started racing as he broke out into a run.

_Papyrus...._

He sprinted through the deep snow as fast as he could, hope blazing in his soul like the torch pole behind him.

“ _Papyrus!_ ” he called out, hoping to see his brother's head poke out from the opening.

Reaching the mound, he threw himself on his hands and knees and looked inside. The mound had indeed been hollowed out, but...

...it was empty.

Sans' soul sank as he collapsed onto his stomach from disappointment and exhaustion.

“No...,” he whimpered, his fears for his brother's life rising in the wake of his shattered hope.

He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, turning his head down momentarily, when his eyes caught something. Lifting himself up onto his elbows, he looked at the snow in front of him.

Tracks. Little footprints, trudging in the deep snow forming two scores in the ground, leading away from the shelter opening. And they were fresh.

Sans rose to his feet, his eyes tracing the path the tracks took. He could see them continuing on, reaching past the extent of his vision.

That spark of hope rekindled in his soul.

“Pap,” he whispered to where the tracks faded from his eyesight. “Hang on.... I'm coming.... Please, just...be ok....”

Sans teleported further ahead, following the tracks that his brother had unknowingly left behind for him.


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry...

Papyrus was exhausted, but he had to keep going. After he had set the entire torch pole on fire, he knew he was in trouble and had to put as much distance between himself and the blazing flames as possible. He kept looking over his shoulder, expecting to see monsters from the cavern chasing after him. He feared the monsters that hated skeletons the most, like the ones who attacked Sans years ago, and shuddered at the thought of being captured by a mob of them.

The little skeleton kicked himself for messing up, creating a giant beacon to his whereabouts and practically letting the whole mountain know that there was someone living in the valley. After being careful for so many years, hiding any traces of their presence, he goes and does something stupid like that.

What would Sans say if he knew what he did? His brother had taken so many precautions so that the monsters of the cavern didn't track them down—their shelter was hidden, they made wide berths around the purple doors, they hid behind boulders and stone formations, they erased their tracks—

His tracks!

Papyrus came to a dead halt and gasped. He whipped around and whimpered when he saw the long trail of his deep footprints in the snow. The snowfall was too mild to fill them in quickly enough, and any monster hunting him down would easily find him. What had he done?!

He stood there, panting heavily from his hastened pace, racking his brains. Then a solution hit him.

He turned back around and continued the way he had been going, then veered his path towards the left, heading for the river. He was running out of time if anyone was chasing him, so he had to be swift.

When he reached the river, he walked up to the very bank of it. He carefully moved his foot into a print behind him, then the other foot in the one further back. He continued stepping into his old prints, the tracks too deep to discern the direction the foot was facing. The snowfall would fill in just enough to fool anyone into thinking that the path had only been walked through once. Looking behind him, even _he_ believed the tracks ended at the river.

Papyrus backtracked, painstakingly ensuring not to disturb the original trudge-marks. Every so often, he looked around, making sure no monsters were coming, as he panted for breath. He was so tired since he hadn't yet slept, but the fear of getting caught kept him going.

After a while, he spotted the distant pinpricks of light from the torch-lit trail near where he had veered his original path. He intentionally made the tracks go to the left towards the river, leading away from where he needed to go—to the right towards the torch-lit path, where he could walk without leaving prints.

At the turn, Papyrus took a large step over into the untouched snow, then brought his other foot over, carefully. He created a long, loose white bone and took a few steps backwards, erasing his new prints with his one free hand. The disturbed snow from the erasure of his prints would soon be covered by the light snowfall, unseen by anyone following the obvious trail of deep footprints.

Glancing over his shoulder at the torch-lit path in the distance, he sighed heavily, realizing he had a long way to go doing this. But he didn't want to be found by skeleton-hating monsters, so he needed to do the hard work to make up for his initial blunders.

As quickly as he could, Papyrus walked backwards towards the torches, obliterating his tracks as he put distance between himself and the false set.

Sans stepped out of the large, blue flame, and fell to his hands and knees, panting heavily. He was using too much magic at once, exhausting himself terribly, but he didn't care. Transporting allowed him to traverse miles in minutes, and he needed to find his brother as soon as possible—Papyrus had already been out here for almost two days, and surely had to be freezing by now. He was extremely grateful that there hadn't been any bad snowstorms, and that the valley had remained mild during his brother's time outside in it.

Shoving a few pieces of dried fruit into his gasping mouth, Sans looked at the path of his brother's tracks. He had been going straight for a while, but far up ahead, it looked as though he turned.

Rising to his feet unsteadily, he squinted to be sure. The footprints definitely headed leftwards. Shutting his eyes once more, he took a step and disappeared.

He fell to his knees when his foot landed, gasping for breath. He sat back on his knees, resting as he chewed more dried fruit through heavy breathing, tracing the path his brother took with his eyes.

He nearly choked as he gasped when he saw that the tracks led to the river in the distance.

_Oh no...._

Sans picked himself up shakily and transported to the river bank. He collapsed to his hands and knees and crawled to the spot where the tracks ended.

_No...please...please, no...._

His brother's prints went right up to the edge of the river, and, with a whine, he looked across to the other side. There were no tracks continuing on, so he hadn't made a bridge to cross. Which meant that he had gone into the river.

Sans' soul tore apart as he fell upon his stomach, weeping bitterly.

“...Pap...no....”

He buried his face in the snow as he cried, utterly heartbroken.

There was no way he could tell where his brother would wash up as the river's currents were strong and fast. If the waters of the darkened area were any indication as to the multiple waterways the river emptied some of its currents into, he could be _anywhere_.

That's if he was still alive.

He could have drowned.

He could have died from hypothermia.

He could have been swept down a bottomless void.

He could have been crushed against rocks, his little, fragile body breaking apart.

The wintry air echoed with the pained cries from the grief-stricken skeleton, weeping for the brother he had most surely lost forever, knowing that it was all his fault.

Papyrus had finally made it to the torch-lit path, falling down on his bottom to rest and gasping for breath as he made the track-erasing bone disappear. He let the food bundle and bone down off his shoulder and laid on his back, staring at the cavern ceiling as he struggled to catch his breath.

He knew he couldn't stay there long, but he _had_ to rest. He had intended on sleeping through the night after getting the fire, but, instead, he had been fleeing all night long.

At least now he could follow the trail without needing to hide his tracks. Though, if he had been a smarter skeleton, he would have made for the trail in the first place. Sucking in gulps of air, he tried to consider his next move.

Sure, he could try building another snow shelter, but that meant more track erasing, more building, and another frozen sleep. He loved the cold, could bear it far better than most other monsters, but it was dangerous for him to be exposed too long in it.

Papyrus rolled his head to the side—the darkened area was far off in the distance, but if he could get there, he could find somewhere to hide in its warmer labyrinths.

He groaned as he got to his feet and picked up the food bundle bone, setting it heavily on his shoulder.

“Just a little bit farther,” he gasped, patting Teddy's head. “We're almost there.”

Still out of breath but worried about being found, Papyrus headed down the torch-lit path towards the darkened area that seemed a whole other world away.

Sans stirred slowly, rousing back to consciousness, a light dusting of snow covering him like a thin sheet. Between his weakness from magic depletion, emotional anguish, and having not eaten since breakfast with his brother a couple days prior, he had cried himself to sleep on the riverbank.

He wiped the snow from his face, but did not bother to sit up.

What was the point? What if he just laid there forever? Let the snow bury him alive, hiding his insignificant body from the world.

His eyes drifted to the rushing river inches from his face.

What if he threw himself in there, washing his existence away? His dust could turn to mud in the water and get swept down into the refuse pit where he belonged.

He watched the river's flow. It was rapid, with white, frothy peaks splashing up, snatching snowflakes from the air to join its liquid form. It looked frigid, dangerous, and deep, and his brother had gone into it.

The dimming soul in Sans' chest throbbed at the thought of his little brother entering the water, getting caught up in its grasping arms as it shoved him violently forward. He imagined Papyrus struggling to keep his head above water, bobbing in the currents, screaming for help that did not come as he was driven forward to who knows where.

Sans shut his eyes and whimpered, his tears long spent as his eyes ached with grief.

Why had he gone into the river? Why didn't he build a bridge to cross, or go another, safer way? Did he fall in? Or was he so overcome with misery that his older brother had caused him that he just gave up and threw himself in....

_No,_ Sans stopped himself, clenching his teeth as he pushed the thought out of his mind. _Papyrus wouldn't do that. He's not like me.... He's always been stronger than I was. He wouldn't do..._ that _...._

Sans' eyes suddenly shot open.

_That's right. He_ is _stronger than I am. He's a fighter. He fell down that waterfall and survived. That could have killed him, but he survived and fought through his injuries—even healed himself._

Sans lifted himself up onto his hands and knees with a loud grunt, his body having gone stiff on the cold, hard ground as he slept upon it.

_He might have washed up somewhere, and healed himself. He...he might even be unconscious and badly hurt. What if he needs help, like in that pit?_

Sans stood up, his body trembling from cold and from weakness.

_I've_ got _to keep searching for him. There's a chance he could still be alive, and I will search this mountain for the rest of my life if I have to. If he's hurt, I_ have _to help him. I_ have _to save him...._

Shoving more dried fruit in his mouth to stave off his weakness and pain, he slogged on, needing to go the rest of the way on foot, following the riverbank in search of a sign of his little brother.

Papyrus swayed on his feet, beyond exhausted and sleep deprived. He had just entered the darkened area, the warmer air allowing his chilled bones to thaw out.

His eyes panned the area, looking for a wall of soil amongst the walls of stone and rock. A relieved sigh escaped his lungs when he saw a large patch of soil wall in a gap between two tall, wide rocky walls.

He hurried over to it, created a loose white bone, and—laying his bag and the food bundle on the ground—started digging into the soft, damp soil. Soon he had hollowed out a small burrow for himself. There was enough room for him to stand up and lie down, with space on the side for his belongings. It was the biggest he could manage given his dropping energy, but he could dig out more tomorrow after a nice, long sleep.

He tamped down the ground with his shoes and patted the walls and ceiling with his hands, making them as solid as possible. There was a waterway nearby, so he pushed most of the excess soil into it to wash away, keeping a large amount of the moist soil to seal the door when he was ready.

Panting heavily and wiping the sweat from his brow with a soil-covered sleeve, he created a tiny bone bed for himself—now that he had the space for it—a couple inches up from the ground. He went outside and brought his bag and the food into the little hollow, placing them on the bed.

Once he had settled inside, he packed the soil up to cover the entryway, hoping that it looked as natural on the outside as it did on the inside. He made a couple blue bones to light up the burrow and looked around, pleased with himself.

It was much warmer than the snow mound, although it was damp. Without a fire, there was no way to dry out the little place, but he was _done_ with fire for a while. At least it wasn't a soaking dampness, and the soil beneath his feet wasn't sodden like in other spots in the darkened area.

He quickly unbundled the food, placed the burlap on the tiny bone bed, wiped as much of the dirt from his clothes as he could, grabbed his “pillow” of clothes and Teddy, and laid down. The bone bed was hard, but he was too tired to care. He'd make some padding with cattail fluff tomorrow—for now, it was sleep time.

As soon as the little skeleton shut his eyes, he was fast asleep.

Sans had been following the river for hours. His eyes were bleary from searching for any indication of Papyrus—tracks, disturbed snow, even...dust.... The further he went, the more dread he felt settling in the depths of his chest.

His fear increased ten-fold when he entered the darkened area. At least in the valley, the river didn't split off. But here—there could be _thousands_ of waterways being fed by the massive river.

As he approached the first waterway, he hesitated.

_Should I keep following the river? Or follow this, see where it leads?_

The urgency of the situation meant he needed to make a decision fast, but the wrong one could mean the difference between life and death for his brother. Opting for the strategic process of elimination, he decided to follow the waterway, and if there was nothing to be found, he'd transport back to this point and follow the river.

He sighed as he headed down the bank of the waterway, hoping he'd made the right choice. While the waterway was narrower, making it easier to see both sides of it with a single glance, it snaked in different directions.

The waterway wound past tunnels, around large walls, and through pathways. Sometimes Sans needed to jump over to the other side to keep following it when a wall blocked him. The further it went, the slower the current became, which encouraged Sans that he might soon find traces of his brother along the banks.

That is, until he rounded yet another bend and saw a tall waterfall feeding the waterway, increasing its current speed. He groaned as he watched the waterway spew forth just as mightily as it had when it split from the river.

His lungs hurt from his heavy panting, aching to rest and for him to breathe normally again. His legs were also protesting, buckling here and there, as they, too, pleaded with him to stop. But Sans kept pushing himself, the need to find his brother surpassing his own body's well-being.

He trudged along, staring at the waterway ahead of him as he passed through yet another area flanked by rocky walls. Had he looked between the walls, he might have noticed that a portion of it was filled in with soil, with an odd indent the size of a small doorway, where the soil had clearly been packed by hand.

Continuing through, eyes firmly watching the waterway, he groaned once more when he came to a fork. Choosing the deeper side, he jumped over and went off to follow it, and would return to this spot if he came up empty handed.

Papyrus woke up, stiff and sore, but well rested. He stretched, his cracking and popping bones echoing in the tiny burrow.

His stomach gave a hearty growl, so he decided to eat. As he sat on the bed, munching the other half of his sandwich and a banana, he looked around at the place he had dug out. It wasn't terrible, it was just _damp_.

He missed the coziness of a wintry, snow shelter, but he didn't think it safe to return to the valley given the giant, burning beacon he had left all of monsterkind, pointing out his presence. Maybe in a few months he would travel back to the valley and build a better home, but for now, this would suffice.

_In a few months..._.

He sighed deeply and swallowed his bite of the banana. It was sinking in that he was now on his own for the rest of his life, and felt the heaviness in his soul of utter longing for his brother. But he had messed that up—like everything else—so he had to live on his own, all alone, forever.

Shaking his head to wipe out the thoughts, he instead looked around and tried to plan out his new home. He wondered if he could build a table out of the soil like they had with snow. Perhaps he could shape shelves on the walls out of the soil, or should he create them from bones?

He popped the last morsel of his sandwich into his mouth and stood up, stretching his aching back again. The first thing he _should_ do is find cattails to make a padding for his bone bed.

“Teddy, I'll be right back,” he said to the bear lying on the bed. “You keep watch here.”

Papyrus got on his hands and knees in front of the entrance and dug out a small hole to crawl out of. It was much harder sealing up the entrance with a sparse amount of soil than it was in the valley, where there were ample amounts of snow to be found.

Once sealed to his satisfaction, he got up, wiping the soil from his hands. The moment he turned and looked up, he gasped sharply.

Near the waterway, where he had pushed the soil into, was a set of footprints running alongside it.

_How did they find me?!_ Papyrus panicked.

Immediately, he dug back into his burrow, packed his things quickly, and made the bone bed and the two blue bones disappear before scurrying out. He sealed the entrance, just in case the monsters came back this way, determined not to leave any trace of his being here.

He looked around frantically, trying to figure out the best way of escape, knowing that other monsters could be showing up soon. He looked at the rocky walls and decided that they might not bother looking for him up high, so he created bone steps to climb.

The wall wasn't incredibly tall—only twenty feet—but at the top, the surface was a wide pathway of soil, similar to the ground below. The moment he reached the top, he turned and made his bones disappear. Staying away from the edge, Papyrus hurried along the path until he reached the end.

He dropped down to his hands and knees and slowly crept to the edge, looking for any sign of the monsters hunting him. There was no one in sight, thankfully, and he saw that the waterway forked off. He noticed that the tracks followed the right waterway, leaving the left side ignored.

Given that he was at the end of the wall-top pathway, getting into that left waterway was his best chance to escape without leaving tracks. Leaning over the edge, he created another set of bone stairs and cautiously climbed down, keeping an eye out for monsters.

Unable to erase his footprints like he could in the snow, he walked as lightly as possible until he got to the monster's tracks, then placed his feet in them until he reached the fork, stepping into the left-side waterway. It wasn't terribly deep, reaching up to his mid-shinbone, but it was _cold_.

He sloshed through agonizingly slow in an effort not to make much noise by splashing. He kept looking around fearfully, waiting to be pounced upon at any moment.

Sans stood, chest heaving from his constant panting, staring at the small pool the waterway had emptied into. An exasperated groan forced its way out of his throat.

There were no signs of Papyrus the length of the waterway, and he seethed internally at himself for choosing the wrong one to follow.

All he could do now was backtrack to the fork and try the other side in what, he was sure, would be the start of a long, arduous process. He took a step, and was back at the fork.

Blowing a heavy sigh, he trudged along the left-side waterway.

Papyrus stood in the water, staring up at a long wall that was part rock, part soil, with a large tunnel going through it on the side near the right edge. It was shorter than the wall near his burrow that he had climbed, being only fifteen feet tall. The waterway turned and spilled out over the edge, so he figured getting on top of the wall was the best way to go from here.

He saw that the floor of the tunnel was rocky, so, since he couldn't hide his footprints over the large area between the waterway and the wall, he could lead the monsters to believe he went into the tunnel, when, in fact, he would be on top of it.

So he stepped out of the waterway and ran for the tunnel, feeling exposed and terrified. The moment his feet went from damp soil to hard stone, he created bone stairs and climbed up and out of the tunnel, making his bones disappear as he went, until he was on top of the wall.

The area above the wall was massive, and, like the wall itself, was a patchwork of soil and rocks. He moved from the edge to remain unseen from the area below. Feeling safer hidden where he was, he gratefully plopped his food bundle onto the ground and took off his bag, feeling a thousand times lighter. He sat next to them, catching his breath as he looked around.

The area was mostly flat, with a few sunken dips and protruding rocks here and there. In some parts it felt solid when he had walked upon it, while in others the ground felt as if it had somewhat of a bounce or slight give to it.

Once his breathing had steadied, he got back to his feet with an aching grunt and walked over to the left side of the area. Looking over the edge carefully, he saw that it came down and met with a lower wall that led to another area. He kept that in mind as a possible next step, but wanted to check out the other sides, first.

He made his way back over the area towards the right edge where the tunnel was located. Wondering how far the edge dropped down, he peered over and whimpered. There was nothing below but darkness. He glanced over at the waterway he had been in and watched as it cascaded over the edge, its water disappearing in the void below.

He gulped and stepped back, then turned around and gasped sharply.

Sans had followed the waterway, already feeling discouraged because of its shallow depth. There was no way that Papyrus could have been swept down it, but he wanted to be thorough, so he continued alongside it. After a couple of turns, he sighed with defeat as he saw it flow over the edge far up ahead.

Because of the shallowness, he wasn't concerned that his brother had been sent over the edge. He was more upset that he had wasted time following another empty lead.

Then he noticed the set of footprints leaving the waterway, heading towards the tunnel, and was about to follow them when a hint of movement from above caught his eye. Had he been on the surface, he would have assumed it was a bird walking along the wall, but in all their years down here, they had never seen non-monster birds.

He kept staring at the wall top and blinked when he saw something move again, over on the left side of the wall. But it happened so fast, it could easily have been his tired eyes playing tricks on him.

Except, he saw it once more as it unknowingly came close enough to the edge of the wall top to be seen.

It was Papyrus.

Sans watched him in stunned silence, paralyzed with disbelief at seeing his brother not only alive, but seemingly uninjured, as his little brother walked along the top of the wall towards the edge and peered over. He watched him shrink back at the sight, and turn around.

When Papyrus' eyes met his, Sans heard him gasp.

The two stared at each other from across the short distance, neither able to say a word or move, a look of sorrowful longing on each of their faces.

At last, Sans broke the silence with his single, quivering syllable.

“...Pap...?”

Papyrus looked down at his brother, feeling like he was in severe trouble yet overjoyed to see his brother once again. He didn't know if he should run away and hide, or stay where he was.

He chose to stay.

“Wh-what are you doing here...?” was all Papyrus could manage out.

Tears spilled from Sans' eyes as he stared up at his precious brother, overjoyed at seeing him all right. He walked closer to the wall, pausing near the start of his brother's footprints at the waterway so he could still be in view, never once breaking eye contact

“I've been looking for _you_ , Pap....” he didn't even try to hide his wavering tone.

“But...,” Papyrus felt his own throat close with emotion. “I thought....”

The little skeleton was so confused. Was his brother the monster who had been hunting him? Why had he come out all this way?

Sans shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath, dreading his next words after finally finding his little brother.

“You didn't have to leave,” he croaked, his voice breaking with pent up sobs. “You can have the shelter. _I'll_ be the one to leave. I just want you to be safe. Have a comfortable place to live, with a bed and fire. I'll even drop off food once a week outside—you won't even have to see me.”

Now Papyrus was _really_ confused. His face furrowed in bewilderment, and he tilted his head.

“Why?” he asked. “ _I'm_ the one who should have left, so I did. I knew it would make you happy....”

It was now Sans' turn to be confused.

“What?” he breathed. “Why would I be happy if you left?”

“B-be-because...,” Papyrus stammered, trying with all his might to keep the tears from flowing and to hold it together.

He failed.

“Because I mess up all the time, and you're always upset because of me, and you spend all your time away from me because you hate me, and you even built a place to hide away from me, and you stopped loving me a long, long time ago, and all I ever wanted was for you to be happy, and I know that if I left, you'd _finally_ be happy because you'd _finally_ be rid of me!”

By the time he had finished, he was full-on sobbing. He buried his face with his hands after voicing the fears he'd carried with him for years and wept loudly.

Sans looked at his brother through tear-filled eyes, his mouth hung open in shock from the words he had just heard as he watched his brother cry.

“Papyrus,” he called out, finally. His voice was firm, and he waited for his brother to look him in the eye before he continued.

Papyrus moved his hands from his eyes at the sound of his name, sniffling and hiccoughing, and looked down at his big brother through tears.

“ _None_ of that is true, Papyrus,” Sans exclaimed, his voice steady and low, underscoring the importance of what he was saying. “You don't mess up. You make mistakes like we all do. I wasn't spending time away from you because I hated you, I stayed away from you because...,” his voice faltered. “Because I wanted to protect you. Ever since Ashen died, I haven't stop crying. It was like losing Mom all over again. It made me sad and scared to know that I keep losing everyone I love—Mom, Dad, Ashen.... And I've been so scared of losing you, too. _Especially_ since I've seen you almost die _twice_.... And then you seemed to grow up overnight, and wanted to do everything yourself, and without me. I thought you didn't need me anymore, and that made me hurt so much. So all I ever do now is cry, and I didn't want you to see your big brother crying all the time, so I built that place so I could cry without you knowing. I thought it would upset you to see me like that, but, it didn't matter.... I make you miserable all the time anyway.... And then, you did what I was so scared you'd do.... You left me.... And...and I thought I lost you for good....”

Sans collapsed to his knees, weeping pitifully.

Papyrus' face creased in sadness hearing his brother's words. They tore at his soul to hear them—he had no idea his brother felt that way.

“Sans,” he called down, his tone wavering. “I-I didn't mean to make you feel...like I didn't need you....”

Sans wiped his eyes on his jacket sleeves and looked up, his face broken into a sorrowful frown.

“I thought if I did all the chores and cooking, it'd make you happy,” Papyrus explained, wiping his own tears as they fell. “When I saw you still sad and upset, I kept doing more. I just wanted to help.... I only told you I'd grown up so that you didn't feel like you had to take care of a babybones anymore.... I didn't want to be a bother to you.... But...then...you stopped holding my hand, and telling me stories, and...and.... I thought it was because you were mad at me or hated me....”

“Pap,” Sans breathed, rising to his feet. “I could never, _ever_ stop loving you. You have _no idea_ how much I wanted to do all those things, but I thought you'd get mad at me for treating you like a babybones....”

Sans paused momentarily, then continued.

“Papyrus, I love you so, _so_ much.”

Papyrus buried his face in his sleeves, weeping atop the wall.

“ _I love you, too!”_ he cried out, and Sans could hear the deep heartache in his voice.

Sans wiped his eyes, his soul feeling like it wanted to shatter apart. He looked up at his sobbing brother, realizing that they had both believed the same lies their fears had kept telling them for the last couple years.

“Pap,” Sans called up. “Please come home with me.... Please....”

Papyrus moved his hands away from his eyes and looked down.

He nodded tearfully. “Okay....”

Sans grinned widely as tears of joy replaced his sorrowful ones. He suddenly felt like the massive burden on his back lifted, knowing that his brother was going back home. They'd figure things out, separate the truth from the lies, and go back to being the loving brothers they had been before.

Sans dared to say that he finally felt happiness and hope drifting back into his soul.

Papyrus turned to the direction of his things and took a couple steps, wobbling as he felt the floor give a little. He took another step, and felt the ground sink in further under his foot. He gasped as he stepped back, the ground dropping in front of him.

Sans watched in horror as the tunnel roof caved in and the wall top that his brother was standing on fell in on itself. His brother kept moving backwards as the wall crumbled. Sans started running towards the wall as it continued to implode in on itself, the wall landsliding over the edge of the pitch black void.

Papyrus was out of ground to stand upon. The ground under him gave way, and he fell forward as the soil and rocks were sucked into the tunnel's gap in a steep slope. He cried out as he started sliding downwards, towards the void, grasping onto anything he could get his hands on.

His breath caught in his lungs as he slipped off into the air, with nothing but loose soil, scattered rocks, and the empty void below him. He cried out as he plummeted down into the darkness.

Sans ran to the edge. He narrowed his eyes and thrust out his left hand.

“No,” Sans' voice was low in firm, calm defiance. “Not this time.”

Papyrus' soul glowed deep blue under his shirt. He slowed to a stop in midair, gasping heavily with fear. He felt himself rise upwards, the feeling around his soul like an embrace, calming him slightly. As he was pulled up over the edge, he looked over and saw his brother with his hand outstretched, a look of sheer concentration on his face.

Papyrus gasped softly—this was the first time his brother had been able to use blue soul magic—successfully—to raise him more than just a few feet. Sweat poured down Sans' temples, but his face showed no intense strain like he had during their previous practice sessions. His expression was almost... _confident_.

Papyrus was pulled over the ground near the caved-in tunnel and touched down gently before he felt the grip on his soul release, the blue glow under his shirt fading away.

The two brothers looked at each other in silence, their chests heaving with loud gasping breaths, as they stood a small distance from one another.

Then, simultaneously, they started running at each other, bridging the gap between them. They collided into each other, embracing one another tightly. They both fell to their weakened knees, neither one letting go.

Sans wrapped his arms around his little brother, holding the back of Papyrus' skull with his hand, pressing the little skeleton's head over his shoulder close to him, while his other arm wrapped around across his brother's back, afraid to ever let go of his dear brother again. He nuzzled into the side of his brother's skull tenderly as his tears flowed from his tightly shut eyes.

Papyrus hugged his big brother around his ribcage, under Sans' arms, crossing his own arms around his brother's back to grasp his brother's shoulders, clutching to his beloved brother tightly as he rested his head on his shoulder, crying loudly from the deep longing in his soul.

The two brothers remained in their embrace for a while, their fears seeping away from their souls, replaced by the deep love each had for the other. Neither wanted to let go, and neither would ever let go of the other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...that this chapter is so incredibly long. It's double what most of the other chapters are! I really hope you guys don't mind the long read today. Splitting up this chapter would have disrupted the *flow*. ;)
> 
> Seriously, sorry for the long chapter. Hope you guys enjoyed it regardless. You have no idea how much I appreciate that you've read this far in my story. :)


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Two Brothers, Many Paths” has just gotten its first fanart from Anubisisbunagirl, and it is AWESOME!!!
> 
> [Click here to go to their DeviantArt page!](https://www.deviantart.com/anubisisbunagirl/art/Two-brothers-859433493)
> 
> Please show Anubisisbunagirl all the love in the world for this adorable pic of my darling boys!!! Watch, favorite, comment, and enjoy!!! :D
> 
> I love this so much!!! The blues are amazing!!!  
> 

Sans woke up with a groan, unwilling to let go of the slumber that had cradled him so tenderly. Without any way of calculating the passage of time, he had no idea that he had slept peacefully for two straight days, his body making up for his lost sleep and extreme overexertion.

With a sigh, he opened his eyes, and smiled.

Papyrus was cuddled up against him, his head against his big brother's chest, with Teddy tucked firmly under his arm.

Sans' left arm was still underneath his brother, and his right arm was draped lazily over Papyrus' side on the blanket. He gently curled his arms in, giving his little brother a warm hug, nuzzling into the top of his head with a content sigh.

How he'd missed this.

The snoozing Papyrus gave a stuttering intake of breath in his sleep, the corners of his mouth rising in a sleepy smile as he breathed a deep, happy sigh out, unconsciously aware that he had been hugged.

Sans laughed softly against the top of his brother's skull.

He knew he should get up, start the morning chores, get breakfast going, and begin the day, but he didn't care about any of that.

Right now, right here, with the brother he adored with all his soul— _that's_ all that mattered.

So Sans shut his eyes, held his brother close, and just listened to the sound of Papyrus' soft, slow, slumbering breathing.

Papyrus shifted as he woke, nestling into Sans' chest before pulling back and opening his eyes. He blinked a couple times before looking up at Sans' grinning face.

“Morning, Pap.”

Papyrus answered with a stretching grunt, arching his back and holding the sides of his neck as he raised his elbows up beside his head. “Nnnyyyeeehhhmorning, Sans.”

Sans took the opportunity to retrieve his arm from under his brother, then sat up in the bed, stretching his own bones out. He relaxed his hands on his lap as he leaned slightly forward, feeling more rested then usual.

“Heh, what year is it?” he said with a small laugh. “My bones feel like we slept for a few decades.”

Papyrus rolled onto his back, nodding into the top of Teddy's head as he gave him his good morning hug. “Me, too.”

The two brothers rolled out of bed with grunts, pops, and sighs.

Sans went into the fire room and took the little pot off the basin to empty the water and fill it with snow as Papyrus went to the pantry to gather ingredients for breakfast. As he laid the food on the prep table, he hesitated. When Sans returned into the main room after setting up the pot with more snow to melt, Papyrus turned to him.

“Hey, Sans?” he asked quietly, his eyebrows furrowed upwards hopefully. “Want to make breakfast with me?”

Sans' eyes lit up as he gasped silently. He breathed out a happy sigh with his answer.

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Yeah, I really do.”

They set to work, preparing their first meal together in far too long.

On the day Papyrus had returned to the shelter with Sans, the two spent hours talking, crying, and setting things straight until they could no longer keep their eyes open.

That morning, it was just like their first year in the cozy shelter in the valley.

They sat at the little snow dining table, munching on the breakfast they had made together, each complimenting the other on their delicious contributions to the meal. They talked and laughed and ate, all while their souls burst at the seams with joy, sitting across the brother they adored with every fiber of their being.

“Thanks for making the toast,” Papyrus said as he chewed on a bite. “It's _just_ the right amount of strawberry jelly—I can never get it to spread right.”

Sans grinned. “Hey, Pap, any time you're in a _jam_ , I'll help you out.”

Papyrus giggled with the toast between his teeth.

Sans raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I missed making breakfast with you like that. It was _berry_ nice of you to ask me to help.”

Papyrus nearly choked as he laughed. “Sans!”

“What?” his brother shrugged innocently. “All I'm saying is, if you had to do all this by yourself without me to help, you'd be _toast_.”

The little skeleton could no longer eat, he was laughing so hard.

Sans winked, pointing at his almond granola. “Sorry, Pap, didn't mean to _bowl_ you over.”

“Sans, you're too funny!” Papyrus wiped the tears of laughter from the corner of his eyes.

Sans shrugged again, his eyes closed casually. “Well, as long as you don't think I'm _nuts.”_

As Papyrus continued his giggle fit, Sans smiled wide. It had been so very long since he heard his brother laugh, and the sound warmed his soul to the core.

After breakfast, they cleaned up, washed the dishes, and put things away. Sans made a mental note of the food they were out of and low on, then reached for one of the old peanut butter jars filled with gold. When Papyrus saw him doing so, he knew his brother would be heading to the market soon, so he went and got his tiny, white bones and started playing on the bed with Teddy.

“I'll be back soon, Pap,” Sans said, putting on his jacket and haversack. “When I get back, we'll have lunch, ok?”

“Okay,” Papyrus put on a smile, even though he felt a little sad to see his brother leave for the morning.

Sans noticed his brother's tone and caught the glint of sadness in his eyes. He wished he didn't have to go, either—especially after all that had happened—but they didn't have enough food for a proper dinner that night. He stood there silently, watching Papyrus play, as he considered things heavily in his mind.

“Hey, Pap?” Sans called after a moment, his voice quiet.

Papyrus looked back up at him. “Yeah?”

“Want to come with me?”

The little skeleton dropped the bone he was holding in his hand as he mouth fell open. His eyes widened, and air sucked into his lungs in a slow, silent gasp.

Sans had _never_ asked him to go with him to the city before—and Papyrus understood why. It was a risk each time his brother went, between being caught as a child without either parent and the skeleton-hating monsters. Except for the one time he was viciously attacked, Sans had been incredibly lucky during his trips to the purple cavern. He had avoided getting captured and locked away in an orphanage—though they both knew he could easily escape by transporting.

Papyrus, however, could not. If he was caught, it would be harder to find the orphanage for smaller children and free him. And he was far too young and small to survive a brutal attack like Sans had suffered.

So Papyrus knew this was an important decision his brother was making. This wasn't a question posed lightly—this was a big deal.

“R-really?” he whispered, trying to hold his excitement deep in his chest.

“Yeah,” Sans smiled gently, tilting his head slightly. “You've proven that you can take care of yourself, and know when to be careful. Besides...,” his face flashed a touch of sadness. “I always hated that you couldn't come with me, even though it was to keep you safe. So...do you wanna?”

Papyrus slid off the bed in an instant, unable to contain his joy. _“Yeah!”_

Sans smiled as he watched his brother pull his scarf down. His eyes widened for a split second as he thought of something, then went over to his brother.

“Hang on, Pap,” he said, adjusting the scarf Papyrus was wrapping around his neck. “Let me just....”

He pulled a portion of the scarf over his brother's head, then wrapped it around so that it covered the bottom of his face, hiding his brother's tell-tale skeletal jaw from view, with plenty of space between to breathe and talk. He tucked the scarf in itself at the back so that it didn't budge when he moved, yet would remain comfortable for the little skeleton. The tails hung over his back as they always did.

“There,” Sans said as he finished. “Wow, Pap, that looks cooler than my hood does!”

“Really?” Papyrus asked in awe, his mouth hidden.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Go put on your bag, I just need to grab something before we go.”

Papyrus nodded, the scarf too secure to move an inch. He got his bag, made sure it was empty, and put it on over his head. He sighed deeply with excitement—he still couldn't believe he was finally going to the city in the cavern!

He turned around, and Sans was standing there with a large jar in his hands filled with gold. It had a red ribbon tied around the glass, with a miniature white bone tucked in the bow.

“This is yours,” Sans explained, holding up the jar. “I put half of the gold I get for the gems you helped me collect into this jar, and I've been saving it for you for when you got old enough.”

Papyrus' eyes grew wide. There were _so many_ coins in there—small ones, medium ones, and lots of large ones—and they were all his?! He'd never had gold before in his life....

“It's a _lot_ of gold,” Sans grinned. “But I want you to have some spending gold for the market, so I'll give you 100 G, and we'll keep the rest safe in here, ok?”

Papyrus nodded silently. Sans couldn't see his brother's mouth with the scarf hiding it, but he could tell he was smiling brightly.

Sans opened the jar and pulled out coins, counting out 100 G in the three different denomination coins. Papyrus knew how to count gold since Sans used coins in his math lessons, so he wasn't worried about him having trouble purchasing items. He placed the coins in Papyrus' open hands.

The little skeleton looked down at the gold— _his_ gold—in stunned silence, then placed the handful of coins in his pants pocket. He felt rich as he heard jangling when he patted them.

Sans put the jar back up on the shelf and turned to his brother.

“Now, that's _your_ gold,” he said. “You can use it to buy anything you like. I'll get our food and any supplies we need, so use that for something you want, ok?”

“Okay!” His eyes shut tight in glee. “Thanks, Sans!”

Sans rubbed the top of his scarfed head, laughing softly. “You're welcome, Pap.”

When the brothers were ready, Sans took Papyrus' hand, and they were gone.

It. Was. So. _Big!_

Papyrus was absolutely stunned at how giant the city was. The massive buildings towered over them, the streets went on forever, and there were _so many monsters_ everywhere! His little head turned this way and that, his eyes trying to take it all in.

When they reached the market, the delicious scent of bread, spices, and confections filled his nose. The storefronts and stands all looked so _amazing_ , he couldn't wait to see everything there was to see.

Sans looked over at his brother, smiling at the enthralled expression in his brother's eyes. He gave the hand he was holding a gentle squeeze, and Papyrus turned to him and shut his eyes in a smile.

They stopped at each shop, Sans wanting his brother to see everything, even if they didn't need anything from every store. There was no need to rush this trip today—he was happy to spend all day here, letting his brother experience the amazing sights of the market.

Papyrus looked at the cookware in the blacksmith's shop, his eyes shining as he dreamily imagined using each item to create meals—frying pans, giant roasting pans, baking sheets, massive pots, spatulas, whisks, and more. Even though he didn't know what they were exactly used for, it was fun to imagine cooking with them.

He marveled over the wooden keepsake boxes in the woodworker's shop, studying the intricate details of woodburned designs, and found the puzzle boxes with secret drawers and hidden latches absolutely fascinating.

While Sans sold gems to the sapphire jeweler, Papyrus browsed through the jewel-encrusted sword hilts—smiling with a sense of pride when he saw one with a lucent, blue pommel stone—and vests of chainmail, imagining himself geared up in them.

He stared up at the fabric spools in the tailor's shop, looking at all the different colors, patterns, and designs, his fingers running across various textures of material—some soothingly soft, others curiously rough.

When they approached the bakery, Sans gave his brother's hand another squeeze.

“Pap, you're going to _love_ this shop.”

Papyrus was blissfully overwhelmed by the luscious scents swirling around the little bake shop. Sans went to collect items they needed, leaving his brother to explore the floury heaven. He stared with mouth open at the huge wall of confections, cookies, muffins, and pastries, all within large, glass jars. He gazed in awe at the giant loaves of bread, trying to imagine the size of the oven they must have come from. He pressed his scarfed face against the display case of cakes, pies, and specialty pastries, eyes devouring the sight of delicate flowers, golden brown lattices, and frosting patterns decorating each one lovingly.

He walked over to a large basket with ice chips and gasped when he saw the packages with in it.

“Sans!” he called in an excited whisper.

Sans came over. “What's up, Pa— _whoa!”_

Sans' mouth fell open at the sight.

The flour-covered bear smiled sweetly. “Those are new, sugar. Just started selling them a few days ago, and—my _goodness—_ they are popular!”

Sans and Papyrus looked at each other, grinning.

“We need these.”

“Yes. Yes we do.”

Sans grabbed a package and brought it over to join with his items on the counter.

The bear leaned down and picked up a bottle from behind the counter. “I'm guessing you will need this as well, sweetie?”

“Oh, yes!” Sans answered as he and his brother giggled with joyful disbelief. “Yes, please! Thank you!”

Sans had just about finished his shopping and glanced at his brother, who was back to staring through the display case.

“And, may we please get two cupcakes?” he asked the baker.

Papyrus gasped, tearing his eyes from the case to look at his brother. “R-really...?!”

Sans nodded, smiling. They hadn't had any form of cake or iced pastry since leaving their home back in the forest. They were too fragile for his haversack, but now that his brother was here with him....

“Sure thing, sugar,” the bear said, smiling warmly. Her soul had been beaming the whole time, realizing that this was the brother her regular customer had always talked about and purchased cookies for. “Which ones would you like?”

“May I have the vanilla with white frosting, please?” Sans asked softly. “Pap, which would you like?”

Papyrus didn't even hesitate, as he answered shyly. “Chocolate with white frosting, please.”

The bear nodded. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Let me total you up so you can pack your things away, then I'll give them to you.”

Sans purchased and packed up his shopping, then the baker took a couple sheets of wax paper and pulled out the two cupcakes, handing each one to the little skeletons.

“There you go, little dumplings,” she smiled as they held their large cupcakes in their small hands.

They both thanked the baker and left the bakery. Sans gestured to Papyrus with his head, pointing back up the road that they had come down. They carried their cupcakes like precious treasures as they went past the shops they had visited. Once they had gotten to the start of the market, they sat down against a brick building on the side of the road and ate their cupcakes happily.

“Good?” Sans asked, licking frosting from his upper lip.

“Good...,” Papyrus answered with a deep, happy sigh, icing stuck to the top of his nasal bridge.

Papyrus had never seen so many different kinds of fruits and vegetables in his life. The scent of freshly moistened vegetables, savory aromatic herbs, and citrous fruit wafted to his nose. Sans let him choose what kinds of produce he wanted for the week, which Papyrus was thrilled to do. Sans even showed him how to tell the difference between ripe and unripe produce, what to look for in sizes, colors and smells, and how squeezing produce helped find the best option.

At the foodstuffs grocer shop, Papyrus was captivated by the cheese wheels. He had never seen one before, having only encountered cheese in wedge form. He had a blast watching the spectacled mouse cutting the wheels with the wire.

“It's like he's cutting a cake,” he whispered to his brother.

“A _cheese_ cake?” Sans said with a gentle nudge to his brother's ribs.

That sent Papyrus into stifled giggles as the mouse continued cutting, completely unaware.

Papyrus was able to taste many of the cheeses he'd never heard of before. He was quite fond of the brie and Monterey Jack cheeses, which even Sans had never tried before, so Sans purchased large wedges of both in addition to their regular assortment of cheeses.

Papyrus chose a honey walnut granola to try, picked out a small jar of raspberry jelly, and encouraged Sans to get a small package of chocolate chips for their special bakery purchase.

“Ooh, yeah, that's right,” Sans breathed. “I would have completely forgotten. Good call, Pap.”

Papyrus smiled behind his scarf, a sense of gentle pride swelling up within his soul.

As they crossed the road to the last shop, Sans gently squeezed his brother's hand.

“This is Ashen's shop,” he whispered softly.

Papyrus looked over at his brother, and saw the sad smile on his face. He frowned slightly, feeling sympathy for Sans for the loss he still suffered.

They entered the shop, and the silver fox at the counter put down the book she was reading when she noticed them. The moment she recognized Sans, her jet-black muzzle split into a warm smile.

“Hi Sans,” she said, then looked down at Papyrus. Her brown eyes lit up as she gasped softly. “And you must be Papyrus.”

The little skeleton nodded shyly.

“Your brother talks about you all the time,” the vixen beamed. “It's such a pleasure to finally meet you!”

“Nice to meet you,” Papyrus answered, his timid voice barely audible.

“Pap, this is Ashen's best friend, Pipermel,” Sans said, giving his brother's hand a reassuring squeeze.

Papyrus nodded politely.

Sans tugged his hand slightly, grinning. “C'mon, let me show you where the toys are. You might find something to spend your gold on.”

He led his brother to the right side, further in after the clothes, and Papyrus' eyes grew wide when he saw the different kinds of toys. There were wooden toys, puzzles, balls, stuffed animals, and more.

“Sans, look!” he exclaimed, pointing to a basket.

Sans' soul dropped when he saw that his brother had found the basket of teddy bears, all identical to Teddy. He worried that his brother figured out that his Teddy wasn't the original that had been left back at their house.

“It's Teddy's brothers!” Papyrus said, and Sans gave a hidden sigh of relief.

The little skeleton looked through the various playthings as Sans chatted with Pipermel.

Little had changed with Ashen's old shop since she had dusted long ago, except for the addition of a large bookcase in the back of the store, between the counter and the toys. Pipermel loved reading, and she had the woodpecker from the woodshop build it for her to encourage monsters to sell her more books than what had been in the small crates in front of the counter. It had worked—the bookcase was stuffed with books from all sorts of genres.

Pipermel and Sans talked about the book she was currently reading—a story about animals who lived together in a friendly community behind fortress-like walls, similar to monsterkind's current situation—while Papyrus played with some of the toys. He kept returning to a wooden figure, carved and painted to look like a Royal Guard, which Sans noticed he was doing in the corner of his eye.

When it came time to leave, Sans looked over at his brother. Papyrus kept glancing back at him, nervously, which Sans thought was quite odd.

_Maybe he's too shy to make his first purchase,_ he thought.

“Pap, we're going soon,” he said. “Need help getting anything?”

Papyrus wouldn't take his eyes off the Royal Guard toy as he played with it, answering his brother softly. “No, I'm okay.”

_Is he embarrassed to buy a toy while I'm watching?_

“Ok,” Sans said, unsure how to help. “Well, I'm going to step outside. Come out when you're ready.”

“Okay.”

Sans bid Pipermel a good week, and headed out, standing across the street near the grocer's shop.

A few moments later, Papyrus came towards him, a gleam in his eyes. Sans knew, immediately, that he had used some of his spending gold.

“Did you get what you wanted?” Sans grinned.

“Yup!” Papyrus nodded happily.

Then he reached down into his little bag and pulled out—a book.

Sans raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in confusion. He was positive he was going to choose the wooden Guard.

Papyrus handed Sans the book. “I got this for you, Sans.”

Sans' breath caught in the back of his throat as he looked at the cover. It was a book about astronomy.

“Pap...,” he breathed softly. “Thank you.... But...you should have gotten _yourself_ something with your gold, not me.”

Papyrus shut his eyes, and Sans could tell he was smiling again behind his scarf.

“I _did_ get something for me,” he answered. “I never had gold before, so I've never been able to get you a present. Now I finally got to! I wanted that more than anything for myself.”

Sans could barely see through the tears welling up. He hugged his brother tightly.

“You are the kindest, most wonderful brother in the whole world, Papyrus,” he whispered. “Thank you....”

“No,” Papyrus shook his head as it rested on his brother's shoulder. “ _You_ are the most wonderful brother in the world. I love you, Sans.”

Sans gave his brother a tight squeeze. “I love you, too, Pap.”

He pulled back and rubbed the top of his brother's covered head.

“Stay right here,” he said. “I'll be right back.”

Papyrus watched as he ran back across the street to Ashen's shop. A few moments later, he jogged back with a wide grin on his face, his hand behind his back.

“Here,” he said, pulling out the Royal Guard toy. “This is for you.”

Papyrus gasped, his hands raising to his covered mouth in joyful shock. “How did you know I liked that?!”

Sans winked. “Brotherly intuition.”

Papyrus took hold of the toy and hugged it. “Thank you, Sans!” He held the toy out in front of him, then showed it to Sans. “I like him because he reminds me of Mommy.”

Sans felt a painful, sorrowful jab to his soul.

“Heh, yeah,” he said, keeping his voice as happy as he could. “Yeah, he's wearing the same armor as Mom.”

The memory of his mother dusting before him, wearing her armor and flowing red cape, flashed in his mind.

He shook it off, then hugged his brother again before wiping his eyes.

“Ready to head home?”

“Yeah!” Papyrus answered, placing the Guard in his bag.

“Come on,” he winked, holding out his hand. “I know a shortcut.”

The two brothers decided that they couldn't wait until breakfast, so they chose to have breakfast-for-dinner that night.

They sat in front of their plates, grinning hungrily.

“I can't believe she actually had these,” Sans said, shaking his head as he stared down at them.

“It's been so long since we had them,” Papyrus said, his voice low with nostalgia.

“Shall we?” Sans said, grabbing his wooden fork and knife.

“Mmhmm...,” Papyrus concurred, doing the same.

They dug into their stack of pancakes, warmed over the fire perfectly, slathered with peanut butter, sprinkled with chocolate chips that melted within the layers, and covered with sweet maple syrup.

They shut their eyes in unison as the flavors set them humming with delicious glee.

“I can see why she said they're so popular,” Sans said through a mouthful. “These are amazing, and we don't even have to make them from scratch! No wonder they're selling like _hotcakes!”_

“Sans!” Papyrus cried out, laughing as he licked maple syrup, peanut butter, and chocolate from the corners of his mouth.

They enjoyed their pancakes together, recounting their favorite moments of the day, discussing the different things they had seen, and commenting on the flavors bursting inside their mouths. The souls in their chests felt as full as their pancake-laden tummies and as warm as the magical fire crackling softly in the other room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You haven't lived if you haven't tried pancakes with peanut butter, chocolate chips, and maple syrup....


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More TBMP fanart! XD
> 
> Skribbly_sketches123 illustrated my UT 5yr/Ch 25 poem amazingly on Wattpad!
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Check out the full size images [here!](https://www.wattpad.com/973974476-art-book-d-two-brothers-many-paths)
> 
>   
> And Anubisisbunagirl awesomely depicted a scene from Ch 44!
> 
> Check out the DeviantArt page [here!](https://www.deviantart.com/anubisisbunagirl/art/Look-at-all-the-pastries-859614829)
> 
> Please go show them both some love and thanks for their beautiful fanart! I love these so much, my soul is bursting at the seams!!! XD

The two brothers stepped out of the blue flame and instantly felt the wave of scorching air pushing against them as their eyes struggled to adjust to the blinding light. The extreme difference between the eternal night in the snowy valley and the blazing daylight in the new molten area was staggering.

“Whoa!” Sans exclaimed, shielding his face with his arms. “I forgot how hot and bright this place is!”

Papyrus shut his eyes tight, fanning himself with his hands as he blew out a sigh. “It's so hot, Sans....”

Sans blinked several times, then squinted at his brother. “I know. At least we're better prepared this time.”

Their jacket and scarf had been left behind, and several jars packed with snow sat in Sans' haversack pockets. They rolled up their long sleeves and moved forward, away from the tunnel entrance leading back to the darkened area.

Sans' bone fence was still up around the edge. They reached the end opposite the tunnel and held onto the bones as they peered down at the magma river.

It gurgled past, waves of molten rock and earth rolling in on itself like kneaded, glowing dough. The magma flowed with a low rumble, occasional hisses spewing forth as it singed the walls of lava rock.

Sans stared at the magma, watching the tumbling reds, yellows, and oranges. He felt a sting in his soul as it reminded him of the fall leaves back home, amassing under the trees as the breeze swirled the fallen foliage along. They had left their home, long ago, on a crisp, fall day, and it was the last time they saw the natural season since arriving at the mountain, devoid of all time cycles—day, night, fall, winter, spring, summer. He gripped the bones tighter, the desire to get back home flaring up within his soul.

Papyrus noticed the look on his brother's face. “Sans...you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Sans answered flatly, tearing his eyes from the magma river below them and forcing himself to look out ahead through the bones.

“Sans,” Papyrus intoned his name, pressingly. They had both agreed to be more honest when something was bothering them after all that had happened when they had failed to do so.

“Sorry,” Sans apologized with a sigh, realizing he had fallen into his old habit. “I was just thinking about when we were back home. In the forest. I'm ok, it was just a passing sad thought.”

“You sure you want to keep going?” Papyrus asked, eyebrows raised in concern.

He recalled how this place had hurt his brother before—during their clear-up-all-misconceptions conversation, Sans had told him the real reason he had punched the bone fence.

“Yeah,” Sans said, turning to look at him. “I really want to get to the end of this mountain and leave. We've been stuck here long enough....”

He turned around and looked back at the tunnel leading to the darkened area. The torches of the trail were still faintly visible. Then he turned back, squinting as he searched across the gap to the plateau ahead of them.

“It's going to be a lot harder to follow the trail,” he said. “I don't see any torches at all. What happened to them?”

“Maybe they didn't need them because it's so bright here,” Papyrus offered.

Sans laughed deep in his chest, the answer so obvious to him now that it was pointed out to him.

He rubbed the top of his brother's skull affectionately. “Heh, and so are you, Pap.”

Papyrus smiled, then looked around curiously. “But how did they get here?”

The span between the place they were standing on and the plateau was incredibly large.

He turned to Sans, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe that stuff's not as hot as we think, and they walked over it?”

Sans dismissed the idea at first, but a split second later, he reconsidered. Anything was possible in this mountain, he supposed—the valley always snowed, even though there were no clouds.

Stepping back a few paces and motioning for his brother to do the same, Sans made the entire bone fence disappear from all three sides. He created a long, loose white bone, taller than he was, and, together, they crept back towards the edge, carefully. Sans tossed the bone over the edge, and they watched it fall.

The bone hit the surface of the magma, epiphysis side down, with a dull _thwock_. It slowly sank into the molten folds as it was gradually swept forward.

“Yeeeuuw...,” they cringed simultaneously, not at all liking how deep the bone was sinking.

Suddenly, the portion of the bone sticking in the air burst into flames from the intense heat of the magma consuming it.

“ _AAAHH!”_ they cried, recoiling backwards in horror.

“Ok, so, _not_ going into that,” Sans gulped as he watched the dust of the incinerated bone swirl in the thermal updrafts.

Sans crept back to the edge as Papyrus gave a worried whimper. He got down on his hands and knees and peered over the side. The heat radiating from the river far below pressed against his face as he inspected the wall.

When he crawled back and stood up, he wiped the sweat from his brow and blew a cooling sigh.

“The wall looks like it was broken away from something,” he explained to his brother. “There's all sorts of broken rocks, and it's all jagged—not smooth like these other walls.”

He looked over his shoulder at the plateau across from them, squinting. It was too far away to see, but he bet that the opposite wall of the plateau matched the one they stood upon.

“They must have crossed over a rock path to get here,” he mused, staring at the plateau. “And it either broke apart over time, or....” He thought a moment. “Or they destroyed it after they all made it over, so the humans couldn't follow them....”

“Y-you don't think...,” Papyrus stammered fearfully. “Th-that anyone was on it when...when it fell into... _that...?_ ” He pointed to the river of magma.

Sans shuddered at the thought as he envisioned hundreds of monsters—including families, children, the injured, and the elderly—suddenly falling into the molten mass far below, screaming in terror. He shook his head hard to wipe the horrible image from his mind.

“No...,” he answered quietly, looking his brother in the eye. “No, I don't think so. With that many monsters, some of them would have used their magic to strengthen the rock, or rescue them, or...something. It makes more sense that they destroyed it to keep the humans from chasing them.”

He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more—his brother, or himself. He made a mental note to figure out a way to ask Pipermel in a way that didn't alert her that he had visited the magma area recently.

“The problem is,” Sans said, turning back to look at the plateau. “How do _we_ get over there?”

They racked their brains for a few minutes, then Sans came up with an idea. Stepping towards the edge, he raised his left hand and created a set of bones from the wall, stretching forth as long as his magical reach could go. It formed a rectangular bridge—a flat, narrow floor with a wall of bones on either side, level with the ground they were on, to prevent falling off.

“Pap, you stay here,” he said as he unshouldered his haversack and laid it on the ground beside his brother.

He sat on the edge above the bridge and slipped down onto it. His knees buckled from nerves, but the sides came up to his chest, so he grasped them to steady himself.

“Sans, no,” Papyrus protested with a whimper.

Sans looked back at him over his shoulder. “Please, Pap. I'm going to see if my magic can reach the other side and complete this bridge, then when I get to that plateau, I'll come right back here and bring us over with my magic. It's far too hot for you to be over this stuff.”

As he spoke, sweat rolled down his skull.

“Sans, it's too hot for you, too,” the little skeleton whined. “And what if you fall? Or the wall breaks? Or the bones melt? Or _you_ melt? Or you fall?”

“You already said that, Pap,” Sans laughed to lighten his brother's fear. “It's ok, I'll be fine. Just stay there, and I'll be right back.”

All Papyrus could do was stand there, helplessly obeying his brother, his lower lip quivering. Sans gave him one last reassuring grin before turning forward and walking along the bridge.

Sans was worried his brother would hear his bones rattling from his terror. What he was doing was incredibly dangerous, but if this was the only way they could escape this mountain, he was willing to push past his fear.

The thermal updrafts pushed through the gaps in the bones, swallowing him in a scorching embrace. As he looked ahead, the heat made dizzying ripples in the air, which didn't help his lightheadedness from tension and the heat. He started panting, his pace slowing, as he felt like a piece of food cooking over a firepit.

 _Now I know what a mushroom feels like,_ he thought, roasting on the bridge.

As he neared the end of the bone bridge, he reached out with his left hand. Nothing was appearing from the other side yet.

_Come on, please.... Come on...._

He was at the very edge, standing on the epiphyses as he grasped the bone on the right side wall of the bridge with his hand, stretching out his left hand as far as he could extend it.

Still nothing.

_Come on! It can't be that far!_

Sans narrowed his eyes as sweat trickled past them. He stepped on tip-toes, holding the bridge tightly as he leaned dangerously forward.

He was rewarded with the sight of bones heading straight for him, creating a larger bridge to overlap the one he was upon.

_Finally...._

In his relief, he relaxed the tension in his body, which the heat gladly took advantage of. Sans swayed, his panting ragged as he felt like the stifling air was suffocating him. He wobbled from his leaning position, and, realizing that he needed to get himself back to a safer stance, he pulled himself backwards.

His right hand, soaked with sweat, slipped off the bone, and he felt a chill wash over his sweltering body as he fell forward. He looked at the magma below him, then shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

At that moment, the bridge from the other side, still guided by his extended left hand, slid around the edges of the first bridge. Sans fell upon the bone floor with a pained grunt, then opened his eyes.

“ _Sans!!!”_

He could hear his brother's terrified screech off in the distance, almost lost in the sounds of the tumbling molten river and his petrified gasping.

Sans got to his feet, shakily, every bone in his body trembling, as he turned and waved to his brother off in the distance, flashing a falsely confident grin at him.

“I'm fine!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, figuring his volume would hide the wavering in his throat.

He faced back forward and staggered down the new bridge, eager to get to the other side. The moment his feet were on the ochre clay of the plateau, he collapsed onto his stomach, desperately gasping for breath. It was considerably cooler now, with the thermal updrafts no longer blasting against him.

After a moment to catch his breath and calm his nerves down from the close call, he stood up and transported back to the other side.

The second he stepped through the large, blue flame, Papyrus was running at him. He hugged him with such force, Sans was pushed back a couple paces.

“Hey, Pap,” Sans laughed casually, hiding his gasping breaths.

“ _Are you crazy?!”_ Papyrus cried out on his brother's shoulder. “You almost fell!”

Sans shut his eyes and hugged his brother back tenderly. “Nah, I was fine the whole time. It was just way too hot so I stumbled a little bit, but there was never any—”

Papyrus had pulled away from him, grasping Sans' upper arms tightly, staring him down with livid eyes as tears trickled from them, his mouth upturned into an angry frown.

Sans' breath was caught in the back of his throat as he looked back at Papyrus, then turned his face away, ashamed.

“I'm sorry I worried you,” he mumbled softly.

Papyrus shook him hard, and Sans gasped, looking back at him in shock.

“ _Whatever is over there is not worth you getting killed for, Sans!”_

Sans looked into his brother's eyes, more fiery than the magma could ever hope to be. He hung his head.

“I know...,” he breathed. “I'm sorry. I was.... I'm sorry.”

His brother was right—he had been far too careless. If the bridge hadn't reached him in time, he would have plummeted into the magma river in front of Papyrus' eyes.

Papyrus held his stare a moment longer, then hugged his brother again. The anger had left him, and all that remained was the lingering panic of what he had just witnessed.

“Sans, please don't do that again,” he begged, his voice trembling with emotion. “I don't know what I'd do if you....” A strangled sob tore from his throat.

Sans nuzzled into the side of his brother's skull. He felt so stupid, so ashamed.

“I just...want to get out of this mountain and go back home so bad, Pap....” he cried softly. “I want to us to get back home again....”

“Sans,” Papyrus squeezed his brother tightly. “I would rather live in this mountain for the rest of my life with you, than live without you. You're my brother—I don't _ever_ want to lose you.”

Sans returned the squeeze as tears fell down his face. His words tumbled out with his tears as he voiced the truth he had been holding on to for so long.

“And I don't ever want to lose you, Pap...,” he wept on his brother's shoulder. “This mountain scares me so much. I _hate_ it here. I've almost lost you _so many_ times. I just want to take you back home, far away from here, where you're safe and happy again...to where Dad might be....”

“We don't know if Daddy's there, but...I'll _always_ be with you, Sans,” Papyrus assured him. He knew that his disappearance from the shelter several weeks ago had heightened Sans' fears of losing him forever. “You will never lose me. I promise.”

A searing, stabbing pain cut through Sans' soul at the sound of the word, and an anguished sob escaped his lungs as visions of his dusting mother flashed before his mind.

Sans had made his bones disappear before transporting Papyrus to the other side, then made the second bridge vanish. They put as much distance between them and the edge as they felt comfortable with before sitting down on the ochre clay ground to have lunch.

Sans pulled out two of the jars they had filled with snow and wasn't particularly surprised to see that they had melted to ice-cold water, the jars soaked with condensation. He unlidded them both, handed one to his brother, and they both drank deeply. The frosty liquid cooled their bones down from the inside, and they finished their sips with a deep, satisfied sigh.

They lunched on cheese and tomato sandwiches, celery sticks, and oat bars with peanut butter, chocolate chips, and honey. They ate in silence, tired from their exhaustive morning and from the waves of constant heat.

Papyrus looked around in deep thought as he munched on a celery stick, then sighed. “I really hate this place....”

“I know,” Sans nodded, licking melted chocolate from his fingertips. “After lunch, we'll go a little bit further, and if it gets too hot for us, I'll take us to a little pool to cool off.”

Papyrus agreed. Deep down, he knew that the more they explored, the closer they got to completing their search of this infernal inferno.

After they finished, Sans packed their things away in his haversack, and they continued along the wide, open plateau.

As they progressed, they panted softly, wiping sweat from their brows constantly on their rolled-up sleeves, pushing forward. They were glad that the area did not contain labyrinthine pathways and tunnels. They were limited to where they could go, as the plateau they wandered on appeared to be the only traversable path. They were flanked by infinitely tall, charcoal grey walls of lava rock that made them feel terribly small, and the magma river flowed on either side.

In the distance, Sans caught sight of a large slope extending from the left wall downwards where it met into the plateau. He nudged his brother and gestured towards it. Papyrus grinned weakly in his overheated state.

Once they reached the slope, the two skeletons stared up at it with their mouths hung open in awe.

It was massively wide and appeared to have been created thousands of years ago from an ancient lava flow that had long since cooled down to the hardened, gradual slope before them. It stemmed from a huge tunnel high up in the wall.

“Look!” Papyrus exclaimed, pointing at the tunnel. “Torches!”

Sans squinted and saw the tell-tale pinpricks of light inside the distant tunnel above them. It appeared that the tunnel continued in the slope upwards through the wall.

“They definitely came this way,” Sans said, narrowing his eyes.

“I bet it's cooler in there, too,” Papyrus said. Sans couldn't help but hear the hopeful tone in his voice.

“C'mon, Pap,” Sans said, grinning widely. “Let's go.”

“Yeah,” Papyrus grinned, the glimmer of adventure returning to his eyes.

Hand in hand, the two brothers started the gentle ascent on the charcoal slope, both eager to leave the sweltering heat and its upsetting memories behind. The magma river flowed steadily below them, tumbling and rolling into itself in gentle, molten waves.


	46. Chapter 46

Any hope that the tunnel was cooler than the area in the midst of the magma river was dashed the moment they stepped foot in it.

It felt like they had just walked into an oven.

The tunnel led into a vast cavern with small flows of crimson magma oozing every which way among the scores of grey and black hills of long-since-cooled folds of magma. It was as if they were in the darkened area, but the infinite waterways had all been replaced with streams of magma. The stench of sulphur was overpowering in the enclosed cavern.

The slope of ancient lava rock they walked upon kept extending upwards, the torch-lit path offering the only true light in the pitch-dark cavern, as the magma in the cavern only offered up a dull, ominous red glow. While the slope wasn't steep, it was extremely long, and through the dizzying heat, it was impossible for them to see the end.

The two brothers panted heavily, gasping for air from the exertion of the ascent and heat exhaustion. They craved cool, fresh air, but all they could fill their lungs with was stifling, sulphur-infused fumes.

Papyrus swayed as he staggered slowly up the infinite incline, his vision bleary and his head pounding. Suddenly, he collapsed onto his stomach with a pained grunt, then lay on the lava rock, wheezing.

Sans, who had been a few paces ahead of his brother, heard him fall and turned around, sweat flinging from his skull as he pivoted.

“Pap!” he croaked out hoarsely.

He knelt by his brother's side and helped him to his feet, holding him up around his side. Sans studied the spot they stood at, noting the details of the lava rock they were on and the flows of magma from the vantage point, and took a step forward.

The split-second blast of wind offered instant cooling on their sweat-soaked bones. They were in the darkened area, and Sans lowered his brother down onto the blue hyrdric soil near a pool of water gently. Papyrus laid there, gasping and coughing, expelling the harsh air from his lungs and sucking in clean, damp breaths while Sans unshouldered his haversack quickly.

“Here, drink this,” he said, handing his brother a jar of ice-cold water, dripping with condensation.

Papyrus sat up and gulped down the water gratefully, then heaved a refreshed sigh before continuing to pant.

“I really, _hehh hehh_ , really, _hehh hehh_ , hate that place,” he gasped, wiping his overheated face with the cool condensation from the jar.

Sans plopped down beside his brother, drinking deeply from his own jar before answering him as he panted heavily. “I know, me too.”

They sat there for some time, struggling to control their breathing and to cool down. The humid air they usually found uncomfortable now soothed their heat-infused bones. The moisture from the surrounding waterways and pool smelled refreshing compared to the sulphuric air they had been breathing in.

Papyrus flopped onto his back with a groaning sigh. “I'm never going to look at toasted bread the same way ever again....”

Sans laughed softly as he took another sip. Then he turned to his brother, tilting his head and his smile into a serious frown.

“Pap, you don't have to do this,” he breathed. “I can take you back and go through that place on my own—”

“No,” Papyrus answered without hesitation, looking his brother squarely in the eyes. “I'm not going to let you go alone. It's too dangerous, and if anything ever happened to you....”

He shuddered as the memory of his brother falling forward at the end of the bone bridge flashed before his mind.

“I just need a minute,” he continued, then turned his face away sadly. “I'm sorry, Sans....”

Sans furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Sorry? For what?”

“For being such a weak babybones...,” Papyrus mumbled so softly, Sans just barely heard the words.

Sans was taken aback, and shifted himself around to sit facing his brother.

“Pap, you're not a weak babybones!” he exclaimed. “You're the strongest one I know!”

Papyrus turned his head to look at him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “I'm the only one you know.”

“The _point_ is,” Sans stressed. “You are incredibly strong. And, yeah, you're still a little kid, but you sure aren't a babybones—you haven't been since we left home. Getting overheated isn't a sign of weakness, Papyrus.”

Papyrus twisted his mouth to the side, raised an eyebrow, and gave a soft grunt. He didn't believe him.

“Really,” Sans said firmly. “I was close to falling over, too. Do you think _I'm_ weak?”

“No,” Papyrus answered, his expression softening.

Sans gave a soft grin. “You're stronger than you know, Pap. Besides, it's natural that you'd be the first to get overcome with the heat.”

Papyrus furrowed his brow, confused. “Why?”

“Because, you're so _cool_ ,” Sans answered with a wink.

At that Papyrus giggled softly.

Sans smiled, glad to see his brother start to feel better.

“Well,” he said with a sigh, standing up. “Are you're sure you want to come with me?”

Papyrus got up on his feet. “Yeah.”

“Ok,” Sans said, moving towards the little pool of water. “Then let's take a dip in this. That should help keep us cool for a little bit out there.”

They slipped into the pool, gasping sharply at the frigid waters, dipped their heads in to fully submerge themselves, then climbed out, their clothes drenched and clinging to their bones tightly.

Sans shouldered his haversack as water continued to drip steadily from his shirt.

“It's going to make us feel heavier, though,” he admitted as he walked awkwardly in his sodden pants. “But we'll be nice'n'cool.”

Papyrus nodded, his arms out by his sides, letting the excess water seep from his sleeves.

Sans held out his hand for his brother, and they were back in the stifling cavern. Their faces wrinkled at the sulphuric stench, then they continued their ascent, their soaking clothes successfully keeping them much cooler.

As they neared the top, Sans noticed that the slope extended to an opening in the wall ahead of them.

“Just a little bit further,” Sans panted, eager to stop walking up the large lava rock “hill.”

Papyrus nodded weakly, his breathing heavy and raspy.

They collapsed inside the tunnel, gasping for breath and drinking the last of the jars of melted snow. They were grateful that the tunnel was considerably cooler than the cavern, but groaned when they saw it curve back around, with another slope heading in the direction they had just come from.

Sans leaned over to look up the new incline from where he sat, noticing in the torchlight that it continued over the cavern they had just exited.

“At least it looks like it's not open to that cavern,” he said, sighing as he leaned back on his elbows.

After a brief rest and a chance to catch their breaths, they picked themselves up and started up the next slope.

It was just as gradual an ascent as the one through the molten cavern, but was enclosed in a much cooler tunnel. The surrounding walls and ceiling were stone and rock, and a cool breeze descended against them from above.

Sans smiled as the gusts cooled the sweat from his brow. “That's a good sign, Pap. We must be close to the outside.”

Papyrus hummed in agreement, a tired smile rising on his jaw.

The tunnel echoed with their panting and grunting, as they passed torch after torch. It was another cumbersome climb, but the higher they rose, the brighter the top appeared to be. A sense of urgent exhilaration coursed through Sans' soul—each step uphill was one step closer to home.

At last they reached the crest of the slope. The tunnel turned to their left, and the moment they rounded the corner, they gasped sharply.

It was as if they were no longer in the tunnel, or the mountain at all, for that matter. All rock, stone, and anything of the natural world was completely gone. The tunnel was replaced by a bright, white _nothingness_ , with a dark void rushing in from behind them to swallow it in its pitch blackness. Then the whiteness consumed the darkness, the flowing between darkness and light repeating itself over and over.

The effect was dizzying—although they stood in place, it appeared as if they were in motion, causing them to fall to their hands and knees in disorientation. There were no floors, no walls, not even a ceiling. Was it a tunnel? Was it emptiness?

A deafening _whooo_ echoed in their skulls, the sound of wind through a deep canyon, except they felt no such gust. A large open doorway stood in the distance at the end of the space, the point at which the white and black flowed to. Sunlight poured through the opening—the outside of the mountain.

Sans saw it—the beautiful, golden sunlight—and rose shakily to his feet. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, he'd almost forgotten what it had looked like.

“We made it...,” he whispered, his eyes wide. “We finally made it.... We're free...!”

Papyrus looked from the distant doorway to his brother and back again. Something about it unnerved the little skeleton deeply.

Sans started walking towards the doorway, and Papyrus gasped. He got to his feet, unsteadily and wobbling from the visual motion, and rushed forward towards Sans. He thrust his arm out to catch his brother by his ribcage, halting him.

“Sans, wait!” he cried out, a hint of fear in his voice.

Sans looked at him incredulously. How could Papyrus even _think_ of waiting, when the exit to the mountain was _right there?!_

“Pap, wha—”

“Sans,” Papyrus looked him in the eyes, and Sans saw the serious fear in his face. “Something's wrong. Can't you feel it?”

Sans' face creased into sad desperation. “No, Pap. I don't. Let's go....”

But Papyrus wouldn't budge. “Sans, I have a bad feeling about this place. Look around! Where's the mountain? _Where are we?!_ There's something wrong.”

Sans was starting to get agitated, but even he had to admit the white and black flashing was strange. He tried to think of how to explain it away, but could not. Still....

“Pap, the exit's right there, c'mon,” he found himself pleading to his little brother. _“Please?”_

Papyrus set his jaw firmly, then sternly furrowed his eyebrows downward. Without saying another word, he thrust out his right arm in a swiping movement, and a white bone shot out from the non-existent ground, aimed right at the doorway.

The two skeletons watched as the bone flew to the opening, then, as it struck, an iridescent ripple formed, and Sans gasped in horror as he recognized that substance—it was the same iridescence the cave opening had been covered over with, the same magic that sliced through his soul, nearly killed him, and forever lowered his maximum HP.

The second after the bone hit the substance covering the doorway, it ricocheted off in an upward angle at an incredible speed, high up over their heads, disappearing from view. They both cringed, and Sans found himself feeling glad that Papyrus had held him back. A phantom ache rippled through his bones as he recalled the last time he hit into the transparent blockade.

Sans stared at the sunlight in the doorway so very far away, and a painful longing ripped at his soul with cruel claws. They were so close, it was right there, and they _still_ couldn't leave. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all.

This had been their last hope of escape. For years, Sans knew that if they just kept following the torches, they would find the entrance to the mountain the monsters had used during that final battle. He had been discouraged when they reached the dead-end with the cave-in, but that hope had been renewed when they found where the trail picked up from the other side.

Now, they were standing right in front of the mountain entrance, and it was sealed by the human's magic.

There was no doubt about it anymore. They were trapped in this mountain _forever_.

Any hope of returning home—gone.

Any hope of seeing their father waiting for them in the house they grew up in—gone.

Any hope of escaping the mountain and its dangerous terrains that had tried to take his brother's life from him—gone.

Sans stared at the opening, the white and black rushing towards it, tearing the last remnants of hope he held away from his soul and casting them out the doorway.

He felt as empty as the room itself.

Papyrus watched his brother's face, and knew he was suffering intensely. Although he also really wanted to go home, he knew Sans held a deeper pining to return. Papyrus had always figured it was because Sans was older, and so he had spent decades more there than he had, and held far more memories of his time there.

There were times when Sans would fondly talk of things they did together as a family, but Papyrus struggled to remember it, having been so very young at the time when the memories had been made. His short life before fleeing to the mountain was getting harder and harder to recall. For him, the memories he and his brother made in the mountain were all he had, and it made him deeply sad when he couldn't remember anything other than those—including his own parents.

Papyrus couldn't stand watching his brother hurt like this, and hated that he was helpless to alleviate his agony. He could heal broken bones, shattered skulls, and fractured vertebrae, but his healing magic was useless to heal emotional pain. What good was green magic if it couldn't heal the worst pain of all?

“Sans,” he whispered after a long while. His voice was almost lost in the empty noise surrounding them. “We should go now.”

Sans slowly tore his eyes from the sunlight and looked at his brother. He agreed, as there was nothing more they could do, and they could go no further, but he couldn't find anything within the growing numbness inside of him to speak or even nod. All he could do was hold out his hand, which Papyrus took hold of and squeezed.

And with a step, they left the very starting point of the torch-lit trail the monsters had left so many years ago, the pathway the two skeletons had followed for years in the hopes that it would lead them to the mountain's exit.

They appeared in the main room of the shelter, and Sans let Papyrus' hand go. The little skeleton went over to the bed and sat on it, as Sans remained standing where he had appeared, staring at the floor.

The crackle of the fire in the other room filled the silence. Papyrus struggled to find the words to say, but withheld them all as he watched his brother cautiously.

After a while, Sans unshouldered his haversack and rolled down his sleeves as he went over to the coat hooks. He pulled down his jacket and put it on silently, his blank expression unwavering.

“I'll be back later,” he said, his voice low and toneless.

“No, Sans!” Papyrus jumped from the bed, pleading desperately. “Please—”

Sans disappeared, consumed by the large, blue flame, leaving Papyrus all alone in the empty shelter.

“—don't leave....”

Papyrus sunk to the floor, buried his face in his hands, and wept.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fanart!  
>   
> Anubisisbunagirl illustrated a scene from Ch 46!  
> 
> 
> Check out the DeviantArt page [here](https://www.deviantart.com/anubisisbunagirl/art/Lost-hope-860129990) to see it in full view!
> 
> Please go show them some love and thanks for their beautiful fanart by watching, favoriting, and commenting!  
> 

Sans laid on his back on the long cushion in his secluded nook, his head so deep in the pillow that it pressed against the sides of his skull. He stared up at the wooden slats and white bones that made up the curved roof without seeing them. His eyes were dry, for he had not shed a single tear.

The devastation had taken so much away from him that he felt empty. He felt like a hollow, dried out husk, his body threatening to crumble down to dust at any moment.

The pain that stabbed his soul when he realized that there was no way out of the mountain had been so severe that it left him numb, unable to feel anything other than utter hopelessness.

They had been exploring the mountain's areas, searching for the way the monsters had been forced in, following the torch-lit path as they knew it would lead them to the large opening in the side of the mountain. After so many years, they found it. And it was sealed.

What were they going to do now?

Everything they had done—built a temporary shelter, trained to increase their battle magic skills, traveled through dangerous terrains to get further through the mountain—all of it had been to prepare them for leaving the mountain. Now they were trapped here.

So what now?

Continue foraging in the rubbish heaps? Keep shopping in the market? Explore unseen areas within the snow, water, and magma? Do the same chores, day after day, for the rest of their lives? Live the rest of their lives, trapped in their giant, stony prison?

Why? What was the point?

Everything he had done, he did knowing that it was just temporary until they found their father, left the mountain, and went back home.

Their father was still missing, the only way out was sealed, and they would never see their home again.

Sans sighed deeply, covering his face with his arms.

He wondered for a moment how long he had been out there in the nook, as he had lost track of time.

_Not that I have any way of knowing if it's day or night,_ he scoffed bitterly.

Papyrus would surely worry about him, and had probably already started dinner. The thought of his brother gave him the smidgen of motivation to finally move. He sat up with a grunt and rested his forearms on his bent knees. He had no energy to get up, or to stand, or to do anything at all, for that matter.

Why bother doing anything anymore?

The emptiness within him had robbed him of any and all hope he had been clinging to. It was as if his soul had been sliced open, hollowed out, and filled with an iron weight of hopelessness that made his chest heavy and his shoulders heave with despair.

He curled himself up slightly, leaning his forehead on his arms. He felt so very tired all of a sudden. Perhaps tired enough to sleep and never wake up....

He sighed once more and forced himself to stand. Papyrus was back at the shelter waiting for him. He found it odd that his brother hadn't come out to call him in for dinner, but it might still be too early. There was no way he could tell.

He took a step and left his little nook, arriving back at the shelter.

It was eerily quiet, and for a moment, terror gripped his soul as unwelcome memories of his returning to an empty shelter flashed before his mind. His eyes darted around the room, and when he saw the lump in the bed, he sighed deeply in relief.

Papyrus was in bed, under the blanket, and laying on his side facing the wall, clutching Teddy.

_Was I gone that long?_ Sans wondered.

“Pap?” he called out softly as he crept over to the bedside.

“Mmh?” Papyrus answered without moving.

Sans tilted his head and furrowed his brow—that didn't sound like he was sleeping. Had he been laying awake in bed this whole time?

“Did you eat dinner?” Sans asked.

“No,” the little skeleton replied.

Sans' eyes widened slightly, noting that something was off about his brother.

“You want me to make something?” he offered.

“No thanks,” Papyrus responded quietly. “M'not hungry.”

Sans raised an eyebrow. Something was definitely up. And a twinge of guilt started twisting at his stomach.

“Pap, are you mad at me?” Sans asked softly, already knowing the answer.

“No,” his brother answered. “M'just tired.”

“O-ok...,” Sans replied, not believing him.

After a while of silence, he spoke again.

“I'm...I'm sorry....”

Papyrus didn't move, nor did he reply.

Sans' face fell. On top of everything else that had happened, now his brother was upset with him....

He sighed sadly, then took off his jacket, hung it up on the coat hook, and pulled the corner of the blanket up so he could get into the bed. However, he just sat at the edge for a moment, his head hanging down, heavy with guilt.

It was happening all over again. He had screwed up and hurt Papyrus, and had once again damaged their relationship. How long would it be before he came home to an empty shelter again?

Sans ran his hand over his face—as if trying to wipe his agonizing feelings from his mind—heaved another sigh, and pulled himself up into bed under the blankets. He rolled on his side and stared at his brother's unmoving back until he drifted off to sleep.

Sans was back at the strange, light-and-darkness tunnel, staring at the opening that looked like a tall, open door in the distance. And someone was standing in the doorway.

“Sans? Papyrus? Are...are you in there?” the figure called out, and Sans recognized the voice immediately.

“Dad...?” Sans gasped, the syllable more of a breath than a word.

It was their father. After all this time, he was right there at the opening. He spread his arms out as wide as his smile.

“Sans!” his father cried out, relief heavy on his voice. “Oh, Sans.... I've been looking all over for you!” He waved his hands towards him in a beckoning gesture. “I'm here, son. Come on, let's go home!”

“ _Dad!!!”_ Sans cried out from the top of his lungs. He couldn't believe his eyes.

He started running towards the doorway, the black and white surroundings flashing in turns as they sped past him, as if pointing to the opening with their movements. The motion of the light and darkness made him feel dizzy, but he kept sprinting down the tunnel.

Yet, no matter how fast he ran, no matter how long he had been going, he was no closer than when he had started.

“Hurry, son!” his father cried out pleadingly. “Hurry! Before they come back!”

Sans kept running, pushing himself as hard as he could forward, but gained no ground.

Suddenly, another figure appeared behind his father—a human.

“Dad!” Sans cried out, coming to a jolting halt. “Behind you!”

Before his father could turn around, a swordpoint appeared through his chest. As he sank to his knees, Sans saw the human behind his father, still clutching the hilt of the sword with a malicious sneer on his face before ripping his sword from his father's back and running out of view.

“ _No!!!”_ Sans screeched painfully.

His father collapsed on his stomach and reached out to Sans.

“S-Sans...,” he grunted weakly. “T-take care of P-Papyrus....”

And then he dusted off, his remains catching on the wind outside the mountain and blowing away out of sight.

Sans fell to his hands and knees, sobbing, then heard a deafening crash behind him that made him jump. He turned around to see Papyrus on the ground on his stomach, a fallen stalactite pinning him down.

“ _Papyrus! No!”_ Sans cried out as he ran to his brother.

He dropped to his knees and whimpered when he saw that the large, conical stone had crushed through his brother's spine and ribcage. He bent down, leaning his face towards the injured skeleton.

Papyrus turned his head weakly, his eyes barely open.

“Y-you left m-me....” he whispered in labored gasps.

Then he shut his eyes and dusted, the white pile of his little brother's remains still around the stalactite that had taken his life.

Sans ran his fingers through Papyrus' dust, grasping some into his palms in painful grief as he wept bitterly.

Sans woke with a start, gasping for air and sitting straight up in the bed. His eyes darted around the darkened room, taking in his surroundings, and when he realized it was just a nightmare, he turned to his brother.

Papyrus was sleeping soundly, still facing the wall as he clutched Teddy.

Sans plopped his head back on the pillow, unnerved by the dream, his chest heaving as he struggled to calm himself.

It would be a while before he went back to sleep.

The next morning, both brothers were quiet during the preparation and partaking of breakfast. Neither was hungry, but seeing that they didn't wish to waste food, they ate anyway.

They spent the day inside the shelter—Sans reading one of his science books quietly on the bed and Papyrus playing silently on the opposite wall. Sans didn't think it would be a good idea to go to the nook, even though he could use a good cry to release some of his pent-up sorrow.

As neither was up to eating, they skipped both lunch and dinner, and did their chores together in silence.

After a nightmare-less night's sleep, Sans felt much better in the morning than he had the previous day, even though the lingering hopelessness hung on his soul like a heavy weight.

Papyrus, however, was still quiet, and it bothered Sans immensely.

“Market day tomorrow,” Sans said, breaking the silence, finally, during breakfast.

Papyrus played with his cereal with his spoon, answering his brother with a sad murmur. “Mmh....”

Sans furrowed his brow slightly in sadness. Then he put on a smile. “Wonder what kind of nummy treats we'll have to choose from at the bakery?”

The spoon in Papyrus' hand stopped moving as he looked up at his brother, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“What?” Sans asked, tilting his head.

“I didn't think you'd want me to go with you,” Papyrus mumbled softly.

Sans blinked, taken aback. “Why not?”

All Papyrus could do was shrug as he turned his eyes away from Sans.

_So that's what this is about...._ Sans thought to himself.

“Pap, of course I want you to come with me,” Sans said, smiling warmly over his breakfast. “We have so much fun there together, and I love my trips with you more than when I went alone.”

Papyrus slowly met his brother's eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Sans grinned. “It's way better sharing that time with you than doing it by myself.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “I don't know why you think I don't, and...I'm sorry if I made you feel like that. I really _do_ love being with you, Pap.”

Papyrus' face barely hid the sorrow that filled his soul. He gave a small sniffle.

“Hey,” Sans said, his tone upbeat. “We should do something fun today, just you and me. Whaddya think?”

Papyrus looked up at him, smiling feebly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sans grinned. “Something we've never done before, something fun. I'd really like that.”

“Me too, Sans,” Papyrus answered softly, nodding.

“Did you find anything else?” Sans called out from behind a broken crate.

“Yeah!” Papyrus answered, poking his head up over a small pile. “There's half a barrel here!

Sans came over and inspected it. “Ooh, the wood will do nicely. Great job, Pap!”

Papyrus grinned. “Thanks! I also found this piece of rope, too.”

“Nice,” Sans nodded. “We can _definitely_ use that. I found a few crates with nails still in them. Let's bring this stuff over with the others.”

“Okay,” Papyrus said, gathering up the rope as his brother took the half-barrel.

They brought them over to the other side of the mound and plopped them down.

“I think we've got enough to start, Pap,” Sans grinned. “I found a broken sword hilt we can use as a hammer.”

“This is going to be great!” Papyrus giggled, shutting his eyes in glee.

The two skeletons rolled up their sleeves and got to work.

The two brothers stood, wiping dirt and sweat from their brows as they breathed out accomplished sighs.

“Not bad, Pap,” Sans grinned as he looked down at what they had designed and built together. “I really like this part here.”

“Yeah,” Papyrus giggled. “That is going to make it go faster, I bet!”

“It sure will,” Sans winked. “You ready to try it?”

Papyrus could barely contain his glee. “Yeah!”

“Ok,” Sans said, eagerly. “I'll bring you up there, then I'll come back for this.”

He held out his hand, and Papyrus took it with a smile. With a step, he brought his brother into a part of the darkened area that had a large, rushing waterway they had discovered a few years prior.

Sans disappeared and reappeared with their project. He laid it on the ground with a small grunt.

“ _Woof_ , that's heavy!” he said, catching his breath. “All right. We should be all set to go.”

Papyrus jumped up and down with bubbling excitement. “Yay!”

Sans walked over to the waterway, it's currents streaming past quickly. He raised his left hand and a bone fence appeared out of the water, the waters slipping right through the gaps.

Together, he and Papyrus lifted the small boat they had built and set it into the waterway. It thumped against the bones, straining to follow the waters that pushed at it.

Considering that it had been made out of rubbish and broken bits of this and that, the little boat was sturdy. They had nailed curved barrel staves to each other, forming a triangular boat-like shape, and Papyrus had been the one to recommend a sharp point to the bow instead of a rounded one.

Sans helped his brother into the boat, then he himself climbed in. It fit them snugly, yet comfortably. He sat in the back as Papyrus settled in front of his lap, grasping a rope attached to either side of the bow to have something to hang on to.

Sans wrapped his arms around his brother, holding him around his lower torso.

“Ready?” he whispered in his brother's ear, loud enough to be heard over the sloshing currents.

Papyrus pulled at the little rope excitedly. “Yeah!”

Sans made the bone fence disappear, and they were off!

The little boat thrust forward, driven by the water's force. It sped down the waterway, turning down snaking bends and plunging down tiny cascades, the water splashing up over them as they landed with each short drop. They shouted and hollered joyfully as they went, giggling and laughing when water covered them, and gave long, ascending calls of “whoooa” as they approached each cascade.

They rode down the waterway for some time before reaching the large pool it emptied out into, coming to a slow stop at the bank. They sat there laughing and sopping wet, thoroughly enjoying their boat ride.

“Want to go again?” Sans asked.

“Yeah!” Papyrus answered excitedly.

They got out of the boat, and Sans transported his brother, then the boat they had built, to the spot they had started at, and, in this way, rode their little boat, over and over again, for the rest of the day.

Sans had been so upset about the devastation over the sealed mountain opening that he had wondered why he should keep going. He saw no reason to do anything anymore.

Why? What was the point?

He realized that _this_ was the point—his brother. While they were stuck living in the mountain, it didn't mean they had to stop living. They could continue their day-to-day lives, enjoying life together, creating fun memories like this. The important thing was that they were _together_.

The barrier had taken away his hope of going home.

Papyrus had given him a reason to keep going.


	48. Chapter 48

Sans put his physics book down on his lap and looked out across the valley, breathing a deep, relaxed sigh. A serene smile grew upon his mouth as he took the view in.

The snowfall was light enough for him to see the purple cavern far off in the distance to his left. If it hadn't been for the large purple doors framed by the violet columns and decorative arch, the cavern in which thousands of monsters dwelled would have been hidden from his view up here. Even now, the doorway was only the size of a hazelnut.

The forest in front of the purple cavern was much larger now. Sans had noticed that after a few years of the small forest on either side of the torch-lit path, the agricultural monsters began growing more and more trees. While it meant that the woodcutting monsters were in the valley for much longer each month, it also meant that more and more pinecones settled into the snow and began growing and taking root—not needing dirt as they were from trees grown with magic.

Now the forest was much denser, and spread out further in the valley, extending closer and closer to their little shelter, which Sans was glad for, since it gave them additional cover from the cavern monsters' eyes and a rich supply of pine nuts.

His eyes drifted along the right from the cavern doors to the thin strip of grey that was the large river. It cut through the span of the snowy valley like a slate grey ribbon, flowing from around the purple cavern towards the darkened area, where it would feed the countless waterways. For the most part it ran straight, but in a few places, it took slight bends and turns.

Sans traced the river with his eyes, scanning for the grouping of boulders where their shelter was located, and laughed softly to himself when he couldn't find it. Between the valley covering it continually with fresh coatings of snow and their own job at making sure it was hidden from the foreign eye, their home was near invisible, and most certainly undetectable from this vantage point.

He could, however, see the large stone formation that his little nook was on, just barely recognizing it from this distance at such a small size. He was sitting over three times as high as the small hideaway, perched safely and able to oversee most of the valley on a lightly snowing day.

Once again he laughed to himself as he thought of how much more to the valley was unseen, even from way up here.

He let his eyes drift over the valley as a whole, taking in its immense size with a casual awe, as he had beheld this view countless times over the last decade.

However it always seemed to strike him with wonder as he marveled at how all _this_ could exist within a single mountain. The stars and planets had always fascinated him, alluring him with the infinite space above his head and all he knew, yet the very planet he stood upon proved to provide a constant flow of intrigue and discovery that satiated his curiosity of the natural world while the heavens above were permanently hidden from his sight.

He sighed once again in tranquil amazement as he settled deeper into his large cushion, clutching the book he was both eager to return to and in no particular hurry to pick back up.

A few years after discovering the large, sealed mountain opening, he had created this hideaway high up on the rocky wall in the valley corner where they regularly trained their magic. He was curious as to how high he could build it, so he created bone stairway after stairway, until he was satisfied with the height.

Sans had made this nook slightly different—he had created a wide platform of bones to stand upon and allow for his teleportation step, but had made a “chair” from a curved, half circle of bones from the rock wall. He fashioned an extra thick, extremely cushy, round cushion that fit into the bones and against the wall, allowing him to sink in comfortably as his legs dangled down above the bone platform under him.

Above him was another curved roof, overhanging along the sides to protect from buffeting winds and snowfall, held firmly in place by bones above and on the underside of each wooden slat. On the wall over his head were a few short bones protruding out, in which he hung a couple blue bones in the gaps to illuminate the nook.

Sans breathed in the crisp winter air and exhaled it in a happy sigh.

“It sure is beautiful up here,” he breathed, the smile growing wider. “Huh, Pap?”

His brother looked up from the book he was immersed in and looked out, his eyes panning the vast whiteness with all its familiar details.

“It sure is,” he answered, blinking slowly as he took in the sight.

Papyrus sat in a bone “chair” identical to Sans', and the two brothers sat side by side with only a small bone platform “end table” between them.

Sans had made this space a reading nook for him and his brother, a place where they could spend the day devouring words from the pages in their hands. It was much more comfortable reading in the chairs than it was on the bed or on the snow floor of their shelter. It also came with a breath-taking view.

Sans curled up, hanging his legs over the left arm of his chair on the oversized cushion to face his brother better.

“How's the book?” he asked.

Papyrus twisted in his own chair to sit sideways, pulling his legs up to sit cross-legged.

“Oh, Sans, it is so _interesting!_ ” he gushed, smiling widely. “There was this bear Guard—she took on a whole _swarm_ of humans, all by herself! She heard they were heading to a village, so she went out to find them and made them follow her, away from the village, pretending that she was going to a bigger village, until she faced them at a river, _all by herself!_ She saved all those monsters from the humans with her diversion!”

“Wow,” Sans grinned at the sparkle in his brother's eyes. “She sure was brave, huh?”

“She sure was!” Papyrus nodded emphatically. “And she was smart, too! She didn't just fight them—she set up a whole _bunch_ of traps ahead of time for them, and they all ended up washed down the river, because of her smart thinking!”

“Traps, huh?” Sans tilted his head, encouraging his brother on.

Papyrus explained, illustrating with his hands animatedly. “Yeah! This one trap, it had a fake ground, but when the humans stepped on it, the fake ground rose up on one side, and they tumbled into the river! Then she set up a set up a rope trap, and when they stood on it, a bunch of them were flung into the river— _SPLOOSH!_ And she made another trap that looked like a bridge across the river, and said out loud 'Oh no! The village is on the other side of that bridge!' So the humans ran onto it but it was made out of straw, so they all fell in because they were running so fast! That must have been so funny to watch!”

Sans grinned, his soul warm at watching his brother's excitement.

“Yeah, that must've been _the last straw_ for those humans,” he said with a wink.

Papyrus giggled. “Hahaha! _Sans!”_

Sans shrugged innocently. “What? All I'm saying is that they really _fell_ for that bear's traps.”

Papyrus leaned back against the side of his chair, laughing. “Sans, stop! Haha!”

Sans winked once more. “At least it ended well—sounds like those humans were all _washed up_.”

Papyrus kept laughing, and it made the grin on Sans' face grow wider.

Sans sat up and reached for his teacup on the little table and sipped his chamomile tea. It had long gone cold, but he liked it just the same. His brother had calmed himself down, and was now reading once again.

Pipermel had a regular flow of books now in her shop, and the two brothers often found books that piqued their interests. Sans usually found an interesting science book, which he would study from relentlessly—taking plenty of notes, reading over and over, and comparing and contrasting with his other books.

Papyrus, on the other hand, was fascinated with books describing the exploits and adventures of notable historic members of the Royal Guard. In the years after settling into Home, many historian monsters had started compiling events of the battles leading up to and including the very last battle at the Mt. Ebott's base during the final push.

Most of the soldiers had dusted in the war, and the surviving monsters wanted to ensure that their legacies lived on after their deaths.

Sans would watch Papyrus in Pipermel's shop, flipping through the different books about the Royal Guard, as if searching for something in particular before finally choosing one.

One time, Pipermel had asked him what he was looking for so that she could help him in his selection.

“I'm looking for one with Mommy in it,” he had answered quietly, and Sans and Pipermel exchanged sad, pained expressions.

Papyrus would even reenact the stories he read when he played with his toys—his Royal Guard figure taking on the role of the heroic Guard, while his tiny white bones played the part of the evil humans.

Sans took another sip of his cold tea, then opened his physics book to where he had marked it with a wide, blue ribbon and continued reading, soon becoming deeply engrossed in the section of inertia, mass, and gravity.

After dinner that night, Sans sat in the bed, jotting down several notes into a blank book he used to store his science studies as he went through the physics book to pages he had marked with small scraps of ribbon. He wrote about fascinating details he had come across that he wanted to learn more about, words or phrases that he did not know the full meaning to that he would try to find their definitions later, and questions that arose during his reading that he hoped to somehow find answers to.

Meanwhile, Papyrus sat on the opposite wall, playing with his toys on the floor. A swarm of humans were about to invade a poor, innocent village, but Ursula, the brave bear Guard, ran at them and diverted them from the true location of the village. Now they were at the river! Oh no! Ursula was trapped! ...or was she? For _she_ was the one who had _trapped_ the humans with her brilliant devices!

Once Sans was finished with his physics notes, he went over to the book crates and returned both his science notes and the physics book to their respective places, then pulled out his journal—a green and blue galaxy cover with smatterings of bright, white stars—and returned to the bed to record the day's events.

It had been a good, relaxing day. Nothing out of the ordinary, no crises, no lives endangered.

He and his brother had enjoyed a hearty breakfast, chose books they wished to read that day, then transported to their reading nook to read until dinnertime, which had been signaled by their growling tummies. They prepared a savory dinner, discussed their readings to each other over their meal, did their nighttime chores together, and were now settling down for the night before heading to bed.

It was a good day, one among many, as the volumes of journals filling two of the book crates could attest to.

Sans wrote the day's final words with Ashen's quill and looked down at his writing with a content sigh. Then he shut the journal and got up to return it and the quillbox to the book crates.

“Pap, almost time for bed,” he said to his brother.

“Okay,” Papyrus answered, and started putting his toys away in his little toy basket.

Sans watched him for a moment, smirked to himself, and as his brother put the last bone away, he spoke.

“Looks like you were having another great adventure, huh?” he grinned.

“Yeah,” Papyrus answered with a dreamy tone. “I was making traps for the humans, and they all went down the river, far, far away.”

Sans put his hand to his chin, looking up at the ceiling, the picture of contemplation.

“Traps for the humans, huh? Let me guess—the rope trap?”

“Uh huh,” Papyrus nodded.

“And the bridge trap?”

“Yup.”

“And what about the ticca trap?” Sans asked.

“The...'tick a' trap...?” Papyrus replied, his face contorted in confusion. “What's that?”

Sans put his hands on his hips. “Ah, well, it's when a monster captures another monster in a ticca. Like this!”

And with that, he suddenly rushed at his brother and started tickling him relentlessly.

“ _Ticca ticca ticca!”_

Papyrus squealed, squirming this way and that to escape the clutches of his brother's ticca trap. Sans eased up, and Papyrus pulled away, giggling, and ran over by the bed.

Sans held his hands up, his fingers waggling, as he spoke in a low, raspy voice. “I'm gonna getcha!”

He took a step closer to Papyrus.

His little brother gave a high-pitched squeal and ran near the fire room threshold. Then his big brother gave chase, and they ran around the main room, giggling and playfully taunting, until Sans caught Papyrus and wrestled him to the floor, tickling every bone in his ribcage, shoulders, and lower spine.

Papyrus rolled back and forth on the floor, trying to protect himself with his arms, but failed miserably, as he laughed and giggled with his brother's attacks.

At last Sans ceased his tickling, allowing his brother to breathe. He sat on his knees as Papyrus gasped for breath during decreasing fits of giggles.

“All right you,” Sans said. “Time for bed.”

“Hehe, okay, Sans, okay,” Papyrus said, breathing heavily.

“And if you get into bed soon enough,” Sans said with a wink. “I'll tell you a bedtime story.”

A white blur flashed past Sans, and he laughed to himself when he looked over at the bed and saw his brother already under the covers and clutching Teddy.

“Pap, I didn't know you could transport, too!” Sans grinned, raising an eyebrow.

Papyrus giggled as Sans picked himself up and stood by the bed.

Sans then went on to tell his brother a bedtime story, inventing up an adventure for the Royal Guard Papyrus and his amazing battle between a giant horde.

Papyrus listened, wide-eyed, as his brother told the story, using funny voices for the humans and a deep, brave voice for Royal Guard Papyrus, illustrating the story with movements and gestures that spread the span of the main room. Papyrus showed no signs of impending slumber, too enraptured by the harrowing tale, and it wasn't until his brother finished and climbed into bed that he yawned and felt sleepy.

The two brothers curled up under the blankets, bid each other goodnight, made the blue bones in the room disappear, and drifted off into sleep, their minds filled with happy thoughts and new knowledge. The magical flame crackled in the other room, casting soft shadows with its gentle light, lulling the two skeletons to deep sleep and fun dreams.


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More amazing fanart!
> 
> This beautiful piece was done by LeviosaDab!
> 
> Sans is having a wonderful dream, star gazing into the infinite depths of space....  
> I absolutely love the colors!  
> View the DA page [here](https://www.deviantart.com/leviosadab/art/What-is-a-Star-860547457)  
> Please give LeviosaDab all the love and thanks in the world for this amazing pic! Watch, favorite, and comment, please! :D

Papyrus narrowed his eyes.

The wind and snowfall was gentle, betraying the tension that lingered thickly in the air. The occasional gust sent ribbons of snowflakes swirling around the valley floor.

Sans pressed his right foot deeper into the snow.

A soft _whooshing_ whistled through the vast openness, followed by the gentle _ptptptpt_ of snowflakes pattering against the rocky walls as they were picked up from the valley's fresh accumulation.

The two brothers stared each other down from across the large gap between them.

In an instant, they sprang forth in silence, their thundering souls doing the bellowing within their ribcages. They sprinted towards each other at full speed.

Papyrus brought his right hand to his left shoulder than swiped it in an arc in front of him. White bones shot out from the snow like arrows in sharp angles, aimed right for his older brother.

Sans saw the bones flying straight at him and clenched his left hand tightly. White bones appeared out of the air around him and whipped forward, each striking an oncoming bone, shattering them all.

While his brother was distracted, Papyrus flung his right arm upward several times, each movement sending off numerous white bone ground attacks that tore up the snow as they zeroed in on Sans.

Sans countered by thrusting his left arm in front of him in a wide arc upwards. Countless white bone ground attacks sprang from the snow, rushing forward like a skeletal ocean wave. Papyrus' ground attacks were decimated, and the remaining bones from Sans headed straight for him.

Papyrus swung his arm up and a half circle of blue bone ground attacks formed in front of his path and sped forward. They destroyed his brother's bones, themselves remaining intact as they closed in on Sans.

Sans let the blue wall draw near, then came to a skidding halt, standing immobile as they passed right through him harmlessly. The moment they were clear, he immediately took back up his sprint.

The brothers were closing in the gap between them. Papyrus brought his hands together and created two long blue bones and gripped them tightly in his hands by his sides. Sans flicked his left hand up, and two loose white bones shot up from the ground ahead of him, which he neatly snagged from midair as he passed them.

They collided with bones crossed, their weapons striking one another, sending painful vibrations up their arms. Papyrus pushed forward hard, making his brother stagger backwards, which allowed for him to swing around, the bone in his right hand swiping towards Sans' side.

Sans sensed what his brother was doing and ducked, the blue bone whistling above his skull as it whipped through thin air. His brother's right side now exposed, Sans thrust his two weapons up and hit Papyrus, knocking him down on the snow and the wind out of him.

Papyrus rolled on his back in time to see Sans slashing his two bones down upon him. Papyrus crossed his weapons, blocking Sans' attack, and Papyrus took the opportunity to pull his knees upwards, catching Sans in his midsection. Sans grunted as Papyrus used his weight against him, pushing his weapons and knees in the direction of Sans' momentum, sending him flying over Papyrus' head.

Sans cried out in surprise, then gave a pained grunt as he hit the ground face-first, skidding through the deep snow. He spat out snow as he rolled over onto his back as quickly as he could, but when he did, he was met with Papyrus' blue bones, crossed narrowly at his neck. His brother narrowed his eyes down at Sans as he stood over him, the tail of his red scarf flapping victoriously in the wind behind him.

Sans dropped his weapons and shrugged in surrender.

“Ok, ok, you win, Pap,” Sans grinned.

Papyrus' fierce expression melted instantly into a long face as he slightly eased up his hold on his blue bones.

“Aw, Sans, you _let_ me win again,” Papyrus whined, his eyebrows turned upwards in disappointment.

“What can I say?” Sans winked up at him, the blue epiphyses still under his chin. “You triumphed _over_ me.”

Papyrus couldn't help but giggle, even though he was still holding his blue bones at Sans' neck.

Sans' eye twitched, and in one swift movement, he grabbed his white bones from the ground, thrust them up between Papyrus' hands in a narrow cross, then pulled them forcefully apart, all while hooking his brother's right leg with his foot and yanking the back of Papyrus' knee.

Papyrus' mouth and eyes widened in shock as the bones were struck from his grip, flying away on either side as he fell down onto his shoulder blades and the back of his skull. The impact made him shut his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he gasped, for his brother was standing over him, his white bones pressed against the sides of his neck as Sans held them in a tight cross.

Sans glared dangerously at him, his expression so dead serious, a shiver of fear ran down Papyrus' spine.

“ _Never_ relax when your enemy can still attack you,” he growled low, his tone grave.

Papyrus nodded with a whimper, his chin thumping against his brother's bones.

Sans stood back, made his bones disappear, and put out his hand to help Papyrus up. His eyebrows were furrowed upwards as he grinned apologetically.

“You ok?” he asked, his voice back to his normal, upbeat tone.

Papyrus grasped his brother's hand, and grunted as he was helped to his feet.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” he murmured, downcast, wiping the snow from his clothes.

Sans tilted his head admiringly, his smile wide.

“You did _amazing_ Pap,” he beamed. “Your ground attacks are getting so much stronger. And that wave of blue bones to take out all my white ones? Brilliant!”

Papyrus smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his skull which was still sore from his fall.

“Really?” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Sans replied. “And you really _did_ beat me just now.”

He rubbed the top of his brother's head affectionately as Papyrus smiled proudly.

“C'mon, let's have some lunch, then we'll head to the rubbish pit,” Sans said, patting his brother's shoulder as he passed him on his way to his haversack.

After lunching on cheese, tomato, and mushroom sandwiches, pears, carrot slices, and plenty of dried fruit, Sans transported them to the trash mounds in the darkened area—after a quick pitstop at the shelter to drop off his haversack.

Sans squinted as he looked around at the different mounds, searching for something.

“Where'd we leave it?” he asked.

Papyrus scanned the area, his eyes filtering through the broken barrels, piles of rope, damaged crates, and countless other bits of rubbish. Not seeing anything, he decided to check the further mounds. He took a running leap towards the bank of the mound they were standing on, his brother gasping.

“Pap!” Sans cried out urgently. “What are you doing?!”

He still had nightmares of his brother's near-fatal injuries down in this place, so watching his brother sprint towards the water at full speed sent chills up his spine.

Papyrus didn't answer for he was just reaching the edge. He took a giant leap over the waters, flew through the air as if floating on the wind, then landed safely on the other mound. He glanced around the mound, spotted something, then turned to his brother who stood there, mouth hung open as wide as his eyes with shock.

“How—? Wha—? _Huh?!_ ” was all he could manage to sputter.

The gap between the two mounds was about twenty feet, and his brother had just cleared it effortlessly.

“C'mon, Sans!” Papyrus called, waving his brother to join him. “I found it!”

Not even daring to try an attempt at making the same jump, Sans teleported over to the mound his brother was on. When he stepped out of the blue flame, Papyrus pointed over to a large pile of wood. Leaning up against it was a large shield.

“Ah, good,” Sans grinned as he went over to retrieve the shield, the sight of it wiping away all bewilderment from his mind.

It was a large wooden, leaf shaped shield—Papyrus had read in one of his books that it was a heater shield, though both brothers agreed that it didn't seem to give off any heat at all. The top of it had two small upward arcs, both meeting in the center, while the bottom tapered down to a single point. To Sans, the top of it looked like a sycamore leaf, and from the middle down, a birch leaf. It was similar to the spearheads Sans had found in their earlier foraging trips, but was thinner and curved vertically.

On the front, the shield had been painted red with a large, orange lion with a long tongue. Seeing that the lion appeared to be walking on his hind legs like a lion monster, the two brothers believed—or rather, _hoped_ —that it had been a monster shield—though it was not the standard issued Royal Guard shield—and not one belonging to the humans. The paint was worn, and there were deep gouges in the wood where enemies had struck the owner of the shield viciously.

When they had found the shield years ago, they saw that the handles which the bearer would have put their arm through—Papyrus said they were called enarmes—were badly torn, so they cut them off and tossed them away.

Sans picked up the shield and tucked it under his arm.

“Ok, Pap,” he grinned, holding out his hand. “Let's go.”

They stood on the snowy platform, looking down the slope before them, then looked at each other, a playful gleam in each of their eyes.

When they had discovered the shield a few years prior, washed up on the bank of one of the rubbish pit mounds, Sans had mentioned that it looked similar to the sled they had back home.

Papyrus, unfortunately, did not remember the winter excursions their family would take up on the high, open hills blanketed by deep, packed snow. Nor did he recall how their parents would pull them along in the little, wooden sled, or how their mother and father would take turns riding down the hill with both brothers sat in front of them. Papyrus had been too young to remember the laughter and the exhilaration that accompanied each ride down those hills that made Sans' soul feel warm and sad as he could still feel his mother's arms around him, her voice joyful in his ears.

Sans, wanting Papyrus to experience the thrill of a sled ride, decided to use the shield as their new sled. However, the valley offered little in the way of hills in its flat openness.

So Sans built one.

He took his brother to a rocky wall that separated the darkened area from the valley cavern on the opposite side of their valley corner for training. Sans created hundreds of white bones, fashioning a thirty-foot-tall “hill” of bones with a wide, flat platform to walk on. The bones sloped in a gentle curve with some dips here and there for excitement's sake. When he had finished—with many dried fruits needing to be consumed, of course—the bone hill was complete, sloping on all three sides in one rounded hill pressed up against the rocky wall.

They had covered it with snow as best they could, and their first sled rides were indeed a bit bumpy as the shield ran over the epiphyses like a rocky trail. But the constant snowfall of the valley had covered the hill with layers upon layers of snow, and each time they came here, the hill appeared more and more natural—just like the ones Sans remembered.

Sans laid the shield on the ground, upside down, and they both clambered into it. Sans sat behind Papyrus, his straightened legs spread so his brother could sit right in front of him.

“On three,” Sans exclaimed, putting his hands on the snow next to them.

The two counted in unison, and with each number, Sans slid the shield sled back and forth.

“One...two... _three!”_

Sans pushed with all his might, sending the sled over onto the slope. They clung to the sides of the shield as they whooped and hollered all the way down. They laughed when they hit a dip or a bump, and reveled in the speedy descent as the frosty wind whipped against their faces.

They reached the bottom, and the little sled slowed to a stop, its riders laughing as they fell over sideways onto the snow to get out. Then Sans brought them back up the flat summit to ride down all over again.

They would continue sledding for hours until their bones were too chilled to continue and dinnertime approached. But they were hours filled with many rides, and much soul-warming fun.

“My cheeks are still all tingly!” Papyrus giggled as he sat on the bed, rubbing his cheekbones vigorously.

Sans came over to the bed from the fire room holding two mugs. He handed one to Papyrus, then sat down next to him.

“I bet they're frozen blue,” Papyrus continued. “Are my cheeks blue?”

Sans laughed softly, shaking his head. “No, Pap, they aren't blue.”

Papyrus put his mug on the bed and rubbed his cheekbones again. “You sure? They sure feel blue....”

“Well you keep rubbing them like that, and they'll go red,” Sans laughed, holding his mug in both hands to warm up his fingertips.

Papyrus picked up his mug and took a big gulp of the warmed milk. He felt it heat his insides as it went down.

Sans sipped his chamomile tea, breathing in the calming flowery scent.

They had just changed into warm, dry clothes and were drinking their semi-hot beverages to wash away any remaining chills in their bones. They were tired, but happy, and they took the brief rest before dinner to sip the warmth in. The two brothers drank in silence as they listened to the cozy sounds of the crackling fire in the other room.

Sans blew on his spoon a few times before slurping his soup quietly. He closed his eyes as he relished the taste.

They dined on their favorite post-sledding meal—toasted cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Sans crumbled a bit more parmesan cheese into the soup and stirred it in as he took a bite out of his sandwich.

Papyrus was dipping his sandwich into the soup and eating it, the gooey cheese mingling magnificently with the rich tomato flavor.

Sans swallowed his bite. “We'll need to get some more of this tomorrow when we go to the market.”

Papyrus laughed. “You say that every time we have this soup, Sans.”

Sans nodded. “That's because we should always be buying it. It's too good not to have plenty of.”

Papyrus plunged his sandwich half back into the crimson soup. “We should try that potato chowder—it's got cheddar and broccoli.”

“Ooh,” Sans breathed as he blew on another spoonful. “That _does_ sound good. I do miss potatoes....”

“And we can have it with nice, crusty bread with butter,” Papyrus said before taking another soup-soaked-sandwich bite.

“I'm getting hungry just thinking about it,” Sans groaned dreamily. “And I'm _eating_.”

Papyrus giggled mid-chew and nearly choked. “Only you, Sans....”

Sans shrugged innocently, then popped his cooled-down spoon into his mouth.

The two brothers continued supping their meal, conversing about market purchases for the next day and food in general, while their bodies continued to warm up after a long day out in the snow. Soon they would be in bed, their tired selves easily lulled to sleep by the embrace of the warm blanket and flickering shadows cast by the ever-burning magical flame. They spent their dreams together, sledding down the hills of their imaginations, laughing, giggling, and enjoying each moment.


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Chapter 50 guys!!!  
>   
> I can't believe we're at half a hundred chapters, and I cannot believe so many of you have read this far!  
> Thank you, deeply, from the bottom of my soul, for reading, kudo-ing, commenting, and sticking with these wonderful boys of mine through their lengthy adventure. It means a ton to me—a skele-ton!

Papyrus watched the last of the warmed maple syrup drip down steadily onto the mound of peanut butter in the pot of oatmeal.

“We're going to need more maple syrup, too, Sans,” he called to his brother.

“Got it,” Sans replied, mentally noting the item on the running shopping list in his mind.

When no more syrup would fall from the mouth of the bottle, Papyrus put it down and began stirring the concoction together, the heat from the magical flame aiding in the complete mixing of ingredients. Once he was satisfied, he scooped heaping spoonfuls into their two bowls, sprinkled a good portion of chocolate chips on them, then used their eating spoons to work the chips in as they began to melt.

Sans finished buttering their honey multigrain toast and returned the glass jar of churned butter to its hole in the small snow mound on the pantry floor, next to their milk, covering it back up with snow. He returned to the prep table and grabbed their plates with the toast and a banana each, bringing them to their little snow dining table as his brother brought the bowls of oatmeal in.

They sat down and looked at their breakfast with happy sighs.

“Looks great, Pap,” Sans grinned as he picked up his loaded spoon from his bowl.

“Thanks, Sans,” he beamed proudly, then looked at his toast. “Ooh, it's _so_ buttery!”

“Heh, just how you like it,” Sans chuckled, then popped the spoon in his mouth and moaned. “Oh, this is _so_ good....”

Papyrus giggled, then dug into his own mapley, peanut buttery, chocolatey goodness, reveling in the sweet, salty, and rich flavors, washing it down with a frosty cup of milk.

They ate their hearty breakfast in relaxed silence, with the occasional comment of taste or mention of another item to add to their list.

Sans put on his jacket as Papyrus pulled down his red scarf from the coat hook. He handed it to his brother, who then wrapped it over and around his head like a hood, masked his jaw from sight, and let the tails flow over onto his back.

Sans then retrieved the compost bag and stuffed his haversack full of mouseshroom nightlights, shouldered his bag, flipped his hood over his skull, and held his hand out for his brother to take.

They appeared on the usual pathway along the vast purple brick wall that surrounded the city and strolled up the alleyway between two large buildings. When they emerged into the street, they halted, gasping in awe.

Every building was decorated with massive festoons of orange flowers, each curved chain held up by two sconces with large, green magical flames on either end. The floral scent filled the air, tickling their noses.

“What are those for?” Papyrus asked, staring up at one of the festoons.

“I don't know...,” Sans replied, stunned by the newly adorned appearance of the city.

As they walked down the streets, it became clear that every building in the city had the same, huge decoration. When they turned the corner to the short street that led to the community center, they gasped again.

The entire street was lined with carts, tables, and booths. It reminded them of the small merchants at the end of the market, as each had a monster running it and displayed various items to the surrounding crowds.

As they walked down the little street, Sans started to feel slightly uneasy. They were used to monsters walking up and down the roads and pathways of the city, but there were a _lot_ of monsters crammed into the area, and his fear of being spotted or grabbed rose slightly. It was loud, stuffed, and overwhelming to him.

Papyrus, however, was intrigued by the sights. It was difficult to tell what the different stands were for with all the monsters blocking the view, but he knew something exciting was happening, especially with the freshly decorated city.

The compost cart was hidden by a thick, blue-violet velvet curtain encircling it, held up by large wooden poles. Sans slipped in and deposited their compost, his perplexity increasing.

They reached the domed community center building, and noticed that many monsters were sitting on the wide stairway eating and drinking. Sans raised an eyebrow—the stairs were usually clear, as was the street, so...what was going on?

They headed to the donation area, and as Sans emptied his haversack of mushrooms into one of the large crates, a badger monster they recognized approached. She was dressed in the grey robes of the charity workers and wore her usual gracious smile.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted kindly. “Thank you so much, as always. I know I've said this before, but you have no idea how much the monsters who need these appreciate it.”

Sans and Papyrus glanced at each other, exchanging knowing looks—having spent far too many nights going hungry themselves, they certainly understood.

“You're welcome,” Sans said, giving the badger a warm smile. Then he raised a curious eyebrow. “Um, sorry, but...what's going on out there?”

The badger blinked in confusion. “You mean you don't know?”

The two brothers exchanged worried glances. Papyrus clutched onto Sans anxiously.

“Sorry,” Sans apologized with a nervous laugh. “This is the first time we've been out of the...uh, house...in a week.”

“Your parents didn't tell you?” she asked incredulously, tilting her head in amazement.

“Uh, no...,” Sans was getting more worried. “Our mom...died.... And our dad...well, he...has been away, working.” He hadn't lied—their father _had_ been working for the king when they evacuated almost two decades ago.

The badger's face softened sadly. “Oh, you poor dears, I'm so sorry about your mom....” After a brief pause, she brightened up as she explained. “Well, the whole kingdom is celebrating this week—the new crown prince has been born!”

Sans and Papyrus eased up and smiled.

“Aw!” Papyrus cooed.

“Oh, wow,” Sans grinned.

The badger smiled sweetly, her joy gushing. “The kingdom has sponsored a week-long celebration in honor of the king, queen, and new-born prince! There have been different activities and things going on in the street out here, and monsters all over the city have offered services and entertainment—the whole kingdom is commemorating this wonderful occasion!”

“That's why all the flowers and fires,” Sans said to Papyrus.

“Yes, the orange flowers represent King Asgore's different forms of magic, and the green fire symbolize Queen Toriel's,” the badger explained. “You both should check out the activities in the street—there's plenty of things for children to enjoy out there! And there's a _lot_ of different food to enjoy—entirely free, thanks to the generous king and queen.”

The two brother's faces lit up, and they looked at each other eagerly. That sounded quite fun.

“And as you know, every night there's the illumination display up above the city,” she said. “Now you know what they're for!”

“Oh, heh, yeah,” Sans said in what he hoped was a convincing tone. “Yeah, we wondered about that.” He, of course, had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

They bid the badger a good day and left the community center. They stood at the top of the stairs, looking down the small street, filled with monsters and booths, with a new understanding.

“Sans, is it okay if we...?” Papyrus asked softly. He knew his brother was always worried about being caught and didn't like to spend too long in the city, but he was really interested in the city's celebrations.

Sans squeezed his hand and smiled at him. “Sure, it sounds pretty cool, actually. And how many times is a prince going to be born, huh?”

Papyrus' eyes lit up and he gasped softly with joy behind his face covering, throwing his arms up in the air and making a tiny jump. “Yay!”

“Let's do our shopping first,” Sans suggested. “Get that out of the way, then bring the stuff home, and come back here to spend the day here.”

“Okay!” Papyrus exclaimed with another little jump, barely able to contain his excitement.

Then they went back through the street, passing the stands and crowds of monsters, and headed to the market.

It appeared that the shopkeepers were celebrating the birth of the prince as well.

The Aaron blacksmith had made several different sorts of items with castings of the same symbol that had been on their mother's armor and was over the large purple doors at the front of the cavern—a winged circle over three triangles.

The woodshop also had the same symbol burned into decorative boxes, frames, plaques, and tableware. Sans purchased a large plate with the symbol as it reminded them both of their mother, and they looked at it fondly before he put it into his haversack.

The jeweler had created several pieces of jewelry in the shape of the symbol, many with amethysts, while some were encrusted with citrines and emeralds.

The tailor had displayed various fabrics, ribbons, yarn, and threads in the royal colors— purple, violet, and blue-violet. His storefront featured two purple banners with the symbol in white that hung on either side on wooden poles.

The bakery was filled with symbol- and kingdom-themed items—cakes with purple icing and the white symbol expertly piped in icing, cupcakes of different flavors iced with purple, violet, orange, or green frosting, pies of various fillings decorated with the symbol cut from pie crust, even large sugar cookies with royal icing decorated with the white symbol on purple.

They purchased their normal baked goods—breads, pancakes, maple syrup, and chocolate chip cookies—and as they were paying, the baker pointed out the large jar of cookies on the counter. Each cookie was golden yellow on one half and colored on the other.

“These are butter cookies dipped in colored white chocolate,” the bear explained with a sweet smile. “I'm giving one, free, to each customer in honor of the royal birth, so, each of you, please pick a color.”

Sans chose a blue-violet one and Papyrus picked out a green one. Unsure of what food they would find at the festivities the badger had mentioned, they had the cookies bagged for later.

In the produce shop, they found a large wooden keg on a table next to the counter with a stack of small, wooden cups with a sign that said “Free Apple Cider”. The large hare gestured to it and gave a waggle of his whiskers.

“Have some, boys,” he smiled cheerily.

They each took a cup and Sans turned the spigot as they filled them up. They sipped the rich beverage and smacked their lips.

“Tastes just like apples,” Papyrus said, then took another sip.

“Yeah, this stuff is good,” Sans nodded.

When they had drained their cups, they placed them in the large wash bin under the table and made their produce purchases.

The foodstuffs grocer had a celebratory sale, as well as small tables of samples throughout the shop. They tried vanilla wafers, honey-roasted nuts, a variety of cheeses, apple jelly on small bits of bread, and maple taffy, finding all of them absolutely delicious. They purchased their normal weekly foodstuffs, as well as some honey-roasted nuts and a small jar of apple jelly.

Then they stopped into Pipermel's shop, who also was running a sale in honor of the birth of the prince. It wasn't possible for Pipermel to control her stock since her items came from other monsters selling her their wares, but she had decorated the shop with small banners and bows in the royal colors, orange, and green.

“Afternoon Sans, Papyrus,” Pipermel greeted happily. “Enjoying the celebrations?”

“Oh yes!” Sans said, still tasting maple on his lips. “You?”

“I stopped by the community street a few times,” she said, her jet black ears waggling as she smiled. “I can't help but think that it's just what our kingdom needed after everything we've been through. Everyone is so happy and excited—it's wonderful!”

Sans had to agree as he watched his brother go over to the toys to play. They had never seen anything like this in their lives, and he knew his brother was enjoying himself thoroughly, which warmed his soul.

Sans and Pipermel chatted for a bit, then they bid each other farewell for the week.

They went down an alleyway and in the next moment, returned home.

“Isn't this exciting!” Papyrus said, jumping up and down as Sans unshouldered his haversack.

“Sure is,” Sans grinned. “And we aren't even done yet.”

Papyrus helped his brother put away the groceries. “I wish we could see the baby. I bet he's so cute!”

“Heh, yeah,” Sans laughed softly, remembering when he saw his brother for the very first time. So tiny, so fragile, and so adorable.

When the haversack had been emptied and the items put in their proper place, they returned to the city and headed back to the street leading to the community center.

There was so much to do!

Some of the carts and booths had games for monster kids to play for prizes. There were bean bag and ring tosses, a large wheel to spin that made a fun _denk-denk-denk_ noise as the pointer flipped past the nails, a wooden duck “pond” that had numbers underneath when you picked them up, and a memory card game. Sans and Papyrus won pieces of candy and small toys in the royal colors.

Other stands had kingdom-themed items for sale—small banners with the symbol, clothes in the royal colors, and bouquets of orange flowers.

There was a small section with four long tables and benches run by a bluebird monster. They saw that there were several children writing and drawing on small sheets of parchment at the tables.

“Hi boys,” the bird chirped. “Want to make a card for the king and queen?”

“Sure,” Sans nodded, and he and Papyrus were handed a piece of parchment each.

They found seats at the table and wrote a small message of congratulations for their new baby using bits of charcoal and dyed wax. Sans drew the symbol, for he didn't know what else to draw, and looked up at Papyrus' work, his eyes widening.

Papyrus was busy drawing a scene with a mommy and a daddy holding the hands of a small child. Sans knew that he had drawn a skeleton family, though to anyone else, they wouldn't know they were skeletons. Neither Sans nor Papyrus knew what the king or queen looked like, or what kind of monsters they were, but seeing his brother draw what looked like their mom and dad holding little Papyrus' hands tugged at Sans' soul.

“Wow, Pap,” Sans breathed. “You're _really_ good at drawing.”

“Think it's okay?” Papyrus looked up, his face unsure of his talents.

“Yeah, they're gonna love it,” Sans grinned.

They turned their cards in to the bluebird, who thanked them appreciatively.

They found many booths and tables that had fun activities for children to enjoy.

They filled small glass bottles with different colors of sand, and the clam monster running the stand sealed them up with corks and purple magic so that their designs stayed in place no matter how much they were shaken.

There was a bookmark making table where an elf owl monster handed them thin strips of thick parchment with holes punched at the top. She then guided them through their selections of ribbons, yarn, and embroidery floss to tie through the hole, and they sat down at the table in front of a large basket of colored wax to decorate them. Papyrus drew a Royal Guard in armor with a flowing red cape, and Sans made a starry sky with a couple of his favorite constellations.

A calico cat monster in grey robes of the charity workers ran a coloring section, with four long tables and benches and many baskets of colored wax pieces. She explained that children were coloring pictures to be given to lonely monsters in need—those who had lost family, were old and alone, and injured soldiers still recovering from the physical—and emotional—hardships of the war. Sans and Papyrus eagerly wished to color a picture for such a sweet, simple gesture, and sifted through the stack of coloring sheets with designs in ink ready for some color. Sans chose a forest scene with a sky full of stars, the moon, and falling stars, and Papyrus chose a picture of a monster baking cookies and cupcakes.

There was _so much_ food to be had, and none of it cost a bit of gold. Sans and Papyrus tried _everything—_ slices of warmed banana bread with butter, small cheesecakes that looked like cupcakes with cherry topping, plant protein sausages cut into chunks on wooden skewers with the green peppers and onions roasted over a wide, green flame, and shaved ice soaked with strawberry juice.

They came to a cart with a large kettle that looked like a giant cooking pot, the top rattling as little white puffs threatened to jump out.

Sans nudged his brother and pointed at the kettle. “Imagine the soup we could make with that, huh, Pap?”

Papyrus giggled, and then imagined it dreamily.

The crow monster running the cart handed them each a small paper bag filled with contents from the kettle.

“What is this?” Sans asked politely, as they both looked into the bag curiously.

“It's popcorn,” the crow smiled.

“This is corn?” Papyrus gasped.

“Yes indeedy,” the crow laughed, then he showed them how popcorn kernels were just dried corn.

They watched in awe as the crow made a new batch with a large bagful of the kernels, listening with amusement to the tiny explosions inside the covered kettle. They thanked the crow and rolled up their bags tightly, placing them in the haversack for later.

Popcorn wasn't the only bagged food given out—they soon had bags of roasted nuts, craisins, candied chestnuts, and roasted winter squash seeds.

The last booth they visited had apples, but they had sticks in their cores, were brown like bad apples, and appeared to be...melting?

“They're caramel apples,” the horse monster explained as she dipped a red and green apple into a vat of bubbling, brown syrup-like liquid.

They thanked the mare as they picked up the treats and walked over to the community center stairs to sit down and enjoy them. They each took a bite, then looked at each other in surprise.

“There's candy on the apple!” Sans exclaimed through his mouthful.

“Mmf, it's so good!” Papyrus said, eyes wide with pleasant shock.

They munched on their caramel apples, humming in delight as they watched the crowds of monsters in the street. They had spent hours in the city—longer than they had ever been before—and were feeling tired, but happy. They knew it was getting late, but they had no desire to eat dinner after the day of sampling, snacking, and savoring they had enjoyed.

They finished their apples and got up off the stairs with exhausted grunts, then tossed their cores and sticks into the compost cart behind the curtain. As they went down through the crowded street to find an empty alleyway, Sans glanced at his brother.

He looked so happy and content under the scarf that hid his face. Sans was so glad that they had spent the day in the city despite the risks, knowing that it was good for his brother's soul.

They had to walk down a few streets, as the area near the community center street was packed with monsters heading to and from the festivities. As they continued down the road, the city slowly became dark—the fires in the sconces on every building dimming but never extinguishing.

Sans suddenly became anxious—why was the cavern going dark? What was wrong?!

“It's starting, it's starting!” they heard a child in the distance shout excitedly.

Suddenly there was a large flash in the air high above that made them both look towards the cavern ceiling. A purple flame flew above the city, a fizzling trail of itself in its wake. It then exploded into a spider-like shape with a loud pop, bursting in the middle and fanning off into different directions. Another flame, orange, shot into the air in the same way before shattering into several bright orange lights with a low boom. Then a third flame, green this time, rose up above before expanding into numerous little flames with a bang, resembling a fluffy dandelion head.

More and more flames shot into the space above the city, one at a time, and Sans and Papyrus watched them, mesmerized and glowing in their colored lights. The booming, cracking, and popping made their bones vibrate, and the fizzling, whistling, and hissing tickled their ears.

The illumination display continued for some time until one colored flame after another flew above in rapid succession, the “sky” above them filled with bright spheres of royal and monarchy magic colors that lit up the whole city, the constant explosions echoing off the cavern ceiling and brick walls. It was loud, it was fast, and it was _awesome_ to behold.

It ended as abruptly as it had started. There was a small pause as the two brothers waited for the next flame, but the only thing that erupted was the applause, whistling, and cheering of monsters throughout the city.

“That...,” Sans whispered, still staring into the darkened cavern ceiling. “Was _so cool._ ”

“Yeah,” Papyrus breathed in awe, his eyes still shining brightly.

The city brightened back up, and the green flames in the sconces returned to their vibrant, gentle burning.

Sans glanced at his brother and squeezed his hand. “Ready to go home?”

“Yup,” Papyrus replied, his eyes tired but smiling.

They slipped down an empty alleyway and returned to the shelter.

The two brothers lay in bed, exhausted and stuffed from their fun-filled day. They talked about it the whole rest of the night until they were hoarse. Now they were tucked under the blanket, their minds still replaying the wonderful day they had had.

They said their goodnights, then curled up to sleep, their dreams filled with the sights, sounds, tastes, and illuminations of the kingdom's celebration for the birth of the king and queen's son.


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More awesome fanart!
> 
> Anubisisbunagirl beautifully illustrated the sledding scene from Ch 49:
> 
> [ ](https://www.deviantart.com/anubisisbunagirl/art/Sledding-time-860818762)
> 
> And here are two AMAZING gifs Anubisisbunagirl made to celebrate TBMP's 50th chapter:
> 
> [](https://www.deviantart.com/anubisisbunagirl/art/HAPPY-50th-CHAPTER-pap-861031193)
> 
> [ ](https://www.deviantart.com/anubisisbunagirl/art/HAPPY-50th-CHAPTER-sans-861030847)
> 
> Click the pics for their links on DeviantArt to see them in full size!
> 
> Please, please, PLEASE show them some love and support them for their amazing flow of fanart by watching, favoriting, and commenting on their gorgeous pieces!

Sans stepped left and right, forwards and backwards, as a volley of white bone ground attacks from his brother charged at him. He was getting better at judging the timing based on distance by watching the rate of speed as they approached, though he was far from perfect, as his throbbing kneecaps and shinbones kept reminding him.

The wave had passed, so he whipped his arm across himself in an outward arc, and rows of his own white bone ground attacks rushed towards his brother in the distance. He took the brief moment of rest while his brother tackled his attack to pop a candied chestnut in his mouth, and stood casually with his hands in his pockets as he chewed it, watching his wave bear down on Papyrus. They had been out in the valley corner for several hours now, training and sparring, and his fatigue was finally getting to him.

Sans had noticed the previous week that the candied chestnuts, enveloped by the sugary coating that seeped through their insides, replenished his magic more than double the amount a piece of dried fruit would. It even gave him a bit of a boost, ensuring that he could do a lot more magic before even beginning to feel a little tired. Plus, they tasted absolutely delicious.

Unfortunately, it appeared that they had only been made for the festivities a week and a half ago, as they were not to be found anywhere in the market when they returned for their weekly shopping. So he and Papyrus agreed to use them sparingly, as tempting as it was to eat the whole bag in a single sitting.

As he swallowed the sweet concoction, he watched his brother destroy his bones with his own, then Papyrus fired a barrage of white bones from the ground, flying through the air right at him.

Sans narrowed his eyes, as these bones were far swifter than ground attacks and much more difficult to avoid. He weighed the options of destroying them or dodging, and decided that decimating the attack offered him no challenge.

The first few approached quickly. He dove to the snow as they flew inches above him, then rolled to the right as the next few sped past. Glancing up, he had just enough time to stand up before more were upon him, and with a few calculated spinning turns and slides of his feet, he evaded each bone, hearing them whistle through the air.

He noticed that there just a few bones left to the attack and grinned. He turned and twirled as, one by one, the last of the bones flew past him like their predecessors.

After one particular turn, something off in the distance caught his eye, making him freeze and gasp sharply. The last white bone in the attack struck him right in the skull above his left eye, knocking him backwards as he cried out in pain.

Dazed with blinding pain pulsating through his skull, he lay on his back in the snow moaning softly.

“Sans! _Sans!_ Are you okay?!”

He heard his brother shouting worriedly, his voice getting closer as the crunching and _shluffing_ sounds of his running through the deep snow increased in volume.

By the time Papyrus had reached his brother, Sans was up on his right elbow, clutching the spot on his skull that had been struck with his left hand. His eyes were shut tight, and his teeth clenched in pain.

“Sans, oh, I'm so sorry!” Papyrus whimpered apologetically as he fell to his knees.

Papyrus gently pulled his brother's hand away and winced at the crack in Sans' skull that he had caused.

“It's ok, Pap,” Sans grunted through his teeth. “Not your fault.”

Sans saw green through his shut eyelids and felt the pain dissipate. He opened his eyes and saw the agonized look of concern and guilt on his little brother's face, his hands on his skull above his eye.

Once Sans was healed, Papyrus helped his brother to his feet.

“Sans, I'm so sorry,” he apologized once more, his voice laden with guilt.

“Don't be, it was my fault,” Sans said as he rose up with his brother's help. “It was mine, I was distracted—”

Sans suddenly remembered why he had lost his focus and gasped sharply. His eyes widened in fear.

“Sans? What's wrong? Is it more pain?!” Papyrus asked urgently.

Sans didn't answer. The moment he stood up straight, his eyes shot to the area where he had spotted something. He saw it, and his breath held in his lungs as a wave of fear washed over him like icy water.

Suddenly, he embraced his brother and took a step that pushed Papyrus back a little, sending them to their reading nook high up on the rocky wall above them.

Papyrus was confused and scared. “Sans, what—?”

“ _Shh!”_ Sans shushed urgently, cutting his brother off as he crouched down on the bone platform then laid on his stomach, his eyes trained on something down in the valley.

Papyrus felt a chill go up his spine as he crouched down to lay next to his brother. He tore his eyes off of Sans and looked out in the direction his brother was staring at and gasped.

Several large, narrow, wooden carts were rolling along the torch-lit trail, pulled by numerous monsters. They were too far away to see clearly, but they had just passed the edge of the white pine forest and were steadily getting closer. But there was no mistaking the armor and flowing red capes of the Royal Guard, marching in large groups at the lead and rear of the string of carts.

“Wh-why are they out here?” Papyrus whispered, fearfully.

“I don't know,” Sans replied in a low voice.

They watched in anxious silence as the monsters made their way along the torch-lit path. When they drew nearer, Sans squinted, trying to see the contents of the carts.

One cart was filled with masonry wheelbarrows and numerous rolled-up tarps that Sans guessed contained some sort of building equipment. Another cart was stuffed with several large bundles of what appeared to be cloth. Still another cart was brimming with crates and tall baskets. More rolled-up tarps filled yet another cart, and the cart behind that was loaded with lumber. The remaining four carts contained monsters, riding along as they sat on two long seats on either side.

“There's so many of them,” Papyrus whimpered.

“Yeah,” Sans whispered. “But see those carts in the front? They used those wheelbarrows when they built out the tunnel to the city behind that giant purple door. They must be planning on building something with all that stuff.”

Papyrus merely gave a worried whimper in response.

Sans reached over and patted his brother on the back reassuringly, while never taking his eyes from the carts. “Don't worry, Pap. At least they're far past our home.”

After what seemed like ages, the row of carts and the scores of monsters disappeared out of sight as they passed the rocky wall on the skeleton's right side that separated the snowy valley from the darkened area.

Sans and Papyrus stared at the spot they had seen the last of the Royal Guard vanish for some time before Sans got to his feet.

“I'm going to take you home,” Sans said resolutely, still looking out at the edge of the snowy valley and darkened area. “Then I'm going to follow them, see where they're going.”

“No,” Papyrus opposed, his small voice shaky. “I'm going with you.”

Sans turned to look at his brother, shaking his head. “Papyrus, no. It's too dangerous. There's _so many_ of them—if you got caught....” His voice trailed off.

“Exactly,” Papyrus said, getting to his own feet. “It's _too_ dangerous. If anything happened to you, Sans....” His voice then trailed off the way of his brother's.

They stood there, looking at one another with concern for the other, neither willing to budge, until, finally, Sans shut his eyes, sighing in resignation.

“Fine,” he said softly. “But stick by me the whole time. I might need to get out of there immediately, and I _refuse_ to leave you behind.”

Papyrus nodded firmly. “I will. And the same goes for _you_ , _too_ , Sans.”

Sans felt the unintentionally painful cut of his brother's words to his soul, recalling the amount of times he had run off ahead after something, leaving Papyrus behind.

“I will,” he answered, nodding solemnly. “I won't let them get you— _or_ me.”

Sans teleported down to the valley where they had been training, retrieved his haversack, and returned to the nook.

“Let's eat lunch, first,” Sans said, digging into the bag to find the small paper bag he had packed. “I'm still aching from our sparring session, and it's not good for us to go after them on empty stomachs after all that training. Besides,” he handed his brother his portion, “it's not like they're going anywhere fast.”

They lunched in silence, each drowning in his own anxious thoughts and worries.

After they had eaten, Sans packed up their food wrappings into the little paper bag and stowed it away in his haversack. Not wanting to be burdened by anything in case they needed to run or hide, Sans put his bag on his bone chair. He'd come back later for it, at some point....

Before leaving, they both scanned the valley for signs of any other monsters who might be following the others. Seeing none, they decided it was time to follow them.

Sans teleported them to the edge of the rocky wall that marked the end of the massive snowy valley cavern. They approached it cautiously, creeping closely to the rocky wall, Sans going before Papyrus. Each footstep was painstakingly silent, and the nearer they got to the end of the wall, the more fearful they became that a monster would emerge from the darkened area and spot them.

When Sans reached the wall's edge, he looked at his brother worriedly. This all suddenly seemed like a bad idea, and from the scared look on his brother's face, he concurred. Sans swallowed his fear, took a deep breath, and peeked around the corner.

The monsters and carts were nowhere to be seen.

Sans pulled his head back and breathed out a huge sigh of relief as his back hit the wall.

“It's ok,” he smiled weakly at his worried brother. “No one's around the corner. Can't see them.”

Papyrus nodded, also relieved.

“We've got to be extra careful about leaving any footprints or anything that show's we're out here,” Sans whispered as he turned his head back to the edge.

Then his mind raced.

Had they been careful lately? Had they been sure to erase any trace of their existence out here? Or had decades of time alone out here made them sloppy, leaving new footprints all over the valley's snow and darkened area's soft hydric soil? How careless had they become? The Royal Guard was out here—surely _they_ had been trained to spot even the _slightest_ disturbances in the environment that alerted of a foreign presence.

Sans suddenly felt quite ill, wishing he hadn't eaten lunch despite the fact that it took away the pain in his body from their sparring.

Knowing that there was nothing he could do except be careful in the future, he looked around the edge of the wall again, this time studying the torch-lit path.

“Ok, I'll bring us closer,” Sans whispered, turning back to his brother. “And we'll keep jumping ahead until we come across them. They can't have gone too far.”

Papyrus nodded, and took the hand his brother offered him.

Sans brought them to the torchlit path at the point where his extent of vision from around the wall's edge had faded. As they stood on the trail, Sans was relieved to see countless fresh footprints in the pathway, along with several sets of cart wheel tracks.

The monsters—being much heavier than the two skeletal children—had made such deep footprints in the sodden hydric soil that they filled up slightly with water.

“This is _perfect_ , Pap!” Sans whispered with joy. “If we step in the tracks with water, they've _no_ way of knowing that two pairs of smaller feet came along this way.”

Papyrus immediately stepped into a pair of watery footprints, as did his brother, while Sans created a white bone to erase the few footprints they had created.

“Ok,” Sans whispered, making his bone disappear. “Let's follow this until we get to the next long stretch ahead.”

They hurried on, around the curved bend, making as few _splish_ sounds as they could manage, their souls pounding in their ribcages.

Each twist and turn brought new anxieties of accidentally being spotted, not knowing how far ahead the monsters were. Sans cautiously peered around the last wall corner before the trail went straight for a bit, and blew yet another sigh of relief to see that the coast was clear.

After they transported ahead near a tunnel entrance, a thought occurred to Papyrus.

“Hey, Sans,” he whispered. “They're following the torches, right?”

“Seems that way,” Sans nodded, staring down the tunnel, illuminated by the torch-lit trail.

“What if they're going to fix that strange thing at the end of the mountain?”

That made Sans jolt straight up, his eyes widening.

“You think?” Sans whispered, his tone tinged with a spark of hope.

“Maybe,” Papyrus shrugged. “Why else are they out here this far? The only thing is....”

His voice trailed off, and it made Sans turn around to look at him.

“What?” Sans whispered curiously.

“Well...,” Papyrus said softly, at first looking at the ground, then up at the mouth of the tunnel. “They're going to run into that cave-in.”

That small spark of hope that had ignited in Sans' soul extinguished at the mention of the cave-in. The two skeletons had followed the torch-lit trail little by little, searching for the large entrance on the other side of the mountain. They had hit a dead end in a tunnel made from a wall of soil and loose rock in the form of a cave-in. They had dug at it for a while, but soon realized that it wasn't just a small collapse. There was no other way around to continue the path, and had given up hope until they found the other side of the torch-lit trail by chance during an exploration excursion.

Just as discouragement was seeping into Sans' soul, another spark of hope fired up.

“Wait!” he whispered, a grin creeping on his face. “They have their building equipment! They might have shovels! And there's plenty of monsters to dig it out!”

Papyrus' eyes lit up as he gasped softly. “They can fix it!”

With renewed hope, they pressed on.

Sans and Papyrus had been following the trail for hours. They had fallen behind the monsters quite a bit, between lunch, their short size, and taking the path slowly with extra care to step in the watery footprints and approach corners cautiously. Sans' teleportation was an extreme help, as, without it, they'd have no hope to catch up to them.

As they approached another corner, they froze when a distant sound hit their ears. They crept silently, inching towards the large wall's edge, and when Sans reached it, he peered around the corner slowly.

Far ahead of them were the monsters, continuing their rolling trudge along the trail. Sans watched the red capes of the Royal Guard at the rear sway back and forth as the soldiers turned their heads left and right, ensuring there were no threats around them.

Sans pulled his head back and turned to Papyrus. “It's them.”

Sans racked his brain, trying to think of their next move. After a bit, he conferred with his brother.

“You're right, Pap,” he whispered. “They seem to be sticking with the torches. If that's true, then they might get to that caved in tunnel. They've got a while before they get there, so here's what I'm thinking: we go there first, find a place to hide, and see what they do. They might decide to dig through it, or go back and try another way. But we can watch and see from a safe place.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Papyrus whispered softly. “But what if they go another way, and don't end up at that tunnel?”

“If that's the case, we'll head back to this spot and follow where their tracks go. If they go another way, it will be really easy to find them.”

“What if we come back here, and they're also here?” Papyrus asked, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. “We'd run right into them or be seen since we'd lose track of where they are.”

“Good point,” Sans replied, looking around. He looked up at the wall they were against. “Ok, I'm going to head up there, and if we come back here to pick up their trail, I'll bring us up there, high above them.”

Papyrus nodded, liking the solid plan.

Peering around just to make sure that the monsters weren't heading back already, he made a series of bone steps on the wall and rushed up them quickly. As he reached the top, he stuck his head up carefully, unsure if the monsters might see his head poking up on the other side. He breathed a sigh as the top of the wall met into a larger wall several steps in, so he was hidden from view. He climbed atop it and studied the area carefully, imprinting it into his memory in case he needed it.

Sans hurried back down then made his bones disappear.

“Ok,” he said, extending his hand out to his brother. “We should be good.”

Papyrus nodded and took his brother's hand, then they were gone.

The moment they arrived at the entrance of the caved-in tunnel, they looked around frantically. The monsters were still a long way off, but they wanted to get out of sight as soon as possible. Liking the idea of being higher up than the monsters, Sans suggested climbing the large thirty-foot wall to the left of the tunnel wall.

Sans created bone stairs and let his brother go first, keeping an eye out and an ear perked for any sign of the carts or monsters. Then he headed up, making the bones below him disappear as he went.

At last, they crested the wall and scrambled onto it. The top of the wall was wide and long, with plenty of room, but they were in full view of anyone coming down the torch-lit path.

Papyrus noticed it, too, and made a short, wide, three-walled structure, created several long loose white bones to make a roof, then created a small loose white bone and started digging at the ground a foot away from it. When Sans saw him building up the soil against the bones, he caught on and created his own loose white bone to help him. Soon, the bones were covered with soil, making it appear like a natural part of the wall.

They laid on their stomachs and crawled backwards into it, the tunnel and a large stretch of the torch-lit path in perfect view. Papyrus created a fourth, shorter wall in front of their faces, and the two skeletons dug the soil in front of it with their bare hands and pressed it against the the wall to hide the bones. When they were done, they peered out of the small gap and still saw no one.

They rested their heads on their arms, panting from exertion and anxiety. Had it been any other time, they would have thought the enclosure was a nice, snug, fun hideaway, but they were too worried to think about things like that now.

“Good thinking, Pap,” Sans said, breathing heavily.

“Thanks,” Papyrus replied breathlessly.

They rested and waited.

They had both drifted off, arms pillowing their heads as they continued laying on their stomachs. The grunting of exertion and grinding of wheels roused them from their naps with a gasp.

The monsters had finally reached the area, and, rubbing the tiredness out of their eyes, Sans and Papyrus watched them from their little, hidden spot.

The front Guards were the first to enter the tunnel, but they didn't get too far. Before the carts entered, the Guards re-emerged, holding up their hands to stop the progress.

“The tunnel's caved in,” one of the Guards announced. “We can't get in that way.”

A few of the monsters on the carts jumped off to see why the carts ahead had stopped moving. They jogged up to the front, and the Guard told them of the cave-in.

“We could dig it out,” one of the monsters suggested. “But it could take time. Shall we camp here for the night? We've made a lot of ground, and my cart-pullers are exhausted.”

“That would be ideal,” the Guard replied. “We'll help your workers set up camp, and we'll take watches to guard the encampment as you sleep.”

“We appreciate that, sir,” the monster nodded politely, then they all headed to the cart with the large bundles of cloth as the monster explained the situation to the remaining members of his crew, and the Guard discussed the plans with the rear Guards.

The two skeletons watched as they set about unloading the cloths and wooden poles from the cart, and started working with them in groups. The cloths turned out to be large tents, like the ones Sans had seen when he first saw the monsters in the cavern, before it had been built up with purple bricks.

Sans and Papyrus looked at each other, realizing that the monsters were camping here for the night. There was nothing more they could do here, so Sans pointed to the back of their enclosure.

Papyrus raised his right hand and some of the bones in the back wall disappeared, the soil that had surrounded them collapsing onto the ground. Sans crawled out backwards, making sure to keep himself flat, followed by his brother.

From where the monsters were, they would be unable to see the brothers atop the wall on their stomachs. The two skeletons crawled to the opposite side of the walltop, as far away from the side the monsters were on as possible. At the edge, Sans pulled himself to a crouch, then slowly rose up, staring at the other edge to make sure he was still out of their view.

When he was high enough to step, he grasped his brother's extended hand as he lay on his stomach, and they disappeared.

The monsters and Guards worked together, building the tents, setting up a campfire, and preparing their dinner, laughing and chatting with one another the whole time. Not a single one of them had noticed the presence of two skeleton children following them for the last several hours.


	52. Chapter 52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More awesome fanart!
> 
> This incredible piece comes from Redm00nsky:
> 
> [ ](https://www.deviantart.com/redm00nsky/art/What-do-you-two-think-861414099)
> 
> Sans and Papyrus are in the darkened area, and feel a chill behind them as a strange presence follows them, lurking in the very hallways he himself is trapped within....
> 
> Love this so much! :D
> 
> Click on the pic to see it in full size, and please, please give all the love in the world to Redm00nsky for their beautiful pic by favoriting, watching, and commenting!

The crackling fire flickered in a soothing dance on the wood it slowly consumed, but the two skeletons in the other room were completely oblivious to its gentle, calming ambience.

Sans and Papyrus sat at the empty snow dining table. Sans held his head in his hands with his eyes shut tightly as he leaned upon his elbows, both legs bobbing with nervous anxiety. Papyrus had folded his arms on the table and was resting his chin on them, staring at the white tabletop as worries and fears pelted his mind.

They had returned to the shelter a short time ago, and wordlessly wandered around the main room before settling down at the table. Neither felt any hunger enough to even _think_ about preparing dinner, so they merely sat in silence, the apprehension surrounding them like a thick, dense fog.

The biggest concern hanging over them was the fact that a huge group of monsters—and a large number of the Royal Guard—had left the confines of the purple cavern. Up until now—aside from the monthly harvest of lumber from the white pine forest—all of the mountain, apart from the purple cavern, had been theirs to explore and enjoy. They had a whole world that was their own, where they felt safe to wander, discover, train, and play.

Now they were afraid to even sit in their own shelter for fear of being discovered.

At last, Sans let out a heavy sigh and plopped his arms down on the tabletop.

“Ok,” he said softly, finally breaking the long silence. “There's nothing we can do for the rest of the night, since they're not going anywhere, so....”

Papyrus nodded, then gave a weak smile. “Yeah. Besides, they're really far away.”

Sans folded his arms in front of him, resting them upon the table, and nodded. “Mmhmm.”

“And they're going to dig out that tunnel, and that will take a lot of time,” Papyrus added.

“True,” Sans said slowly, the thought having not occurred to him.

“It could take days before they dig out to the other side,” Papyrus continued. “So we may not have to worry about losing track of them, because they'll still be there all day tomorrow.”

Sans considered this carefully. His intention had been to leave as soon as they ate breakfast to continue following them, but Papyrus was right.

The crew of monsters weren’t going to be through to the other side early the next morning. If anything, they would probably spend the first couple hours of the day getting breakfast made and eaten. They might even take the time to break down their tents before they unloaded their digging equipment.

“Pap, you’re right, as always,” Sans grinned, tilting his head in admiration. “There’s no need to rush, and if they get an earlier start than we do, it might even be smarter to let them go ahead of us while we track them, instead of following right behind. We were lucky today, but I’m worried about the Guard spotting us.”

Papyrus smiled wider, his own fears and worry washing away the more he thought about the situation.

“They _must_ be going to the end of the mountain,” he said, nodding to himself. “Why else would they be following the torches?”

“And why else would they have gone non-stop?” Sans said, putting his thumb under his chin and his curled finger against his bottom lip in thought. “They didn't leave the path, not even when they reached the cave-in.”

“Maybe they're going to try to dig a hole out of the mountain, away from that weird flashing tunnel?” Papyrus pondered, raising an eyebrow in consideration.

They were feeling better with each musing question.

“Well,” Sans sighed, standing up from his seat. “ _Wherever_ they're going, they're going nowhere tonight but to sleep.”

Papyrus giggled and stood up as well.

“We should eat,” Sans said. “It's not good for us to go to bed on empty stomachs.”

“Yeah,” Papyrus nodded in agreement.

The two brothers prepared a quick, small dinner, still eager to get to bed and rise early the next day. The anxiety and dread still lingered in their minds and burdened their souls, however, no matter how much they tried to convince themselves that there was nothing to worry about.

They woke up the next morning and set right to preparing a large breakfast, their stomachs rumbling and growling in protest over their tiny dinner from the night before.

They sat down to a small stack of pancakes, slathered with peanut butter, sprinkled with chocolate chips, and covered with thick, gooey, warmed-up maple syrup. Alongside these were buttered multi-grain toast with mixed fruit jelly, a banana, and frosty cups of milk. Sans had suggested the pancakes because the syrup and chocolate would boost their magic, but they also adored the sweet, salty, sticky stacks for breakfast and always looked for an excuse to have them.

After they ate, they did the dishes and a few morning chores. Their souls fluttered with anxiety as they wondered if the monsters were still at the tunnel where they had last seen them. The only thing that would calm their nerves was to see what was going on with their own eyes.

“Pap, you should really stay here,” Sans pleaded as he put the clean dishes away. “I'm just going to pop over there and take a look, then head right back.”

“No way, Sans,” Papyrus shook his head as he cleaned out the dishwashing bucket. “I'm coming with you. Even if it's for a minute. If you got caught or hurt, I'd never know.”

“If anything bad happened, you know I'd end up right back here,” Sans replied softly, thinking of the time he had been injured so terribly, he was dying. Even then, he came back home to his brother.

“If anything bad happened, I'd feel a whole lot better knowing I could heal you right away,” Papyrus answered quietly.

Sans sighed, and, once again, relented despite his fears of something terrible happening to his little brother.

“Ok,” he said. “You're right. You ready?”

Papyrus put the wet rough cloth up on the warming rack to dry and put the bucket back against the wall in the fire room.

“Yeah,” he answered, having completed his task.

Sans put on his jacket as Papyrus wrapped his scarf around his neck, then they held hands and disappeared from the shelter in the large, blue flame.

They appeared at the far end of the walltop above the crew, immediately dropped to their stomachs, and crawled up to and through the back of the little enclosure Papyrus had made the day before. They peeked through the small gap in the front wall.

The monsters were still at the tunnel, having begun their task of digging through the cave-in, and the tents were still up. They couldn't see how deep they had gotten, but it couldn't have been that far.

The Royal Guard sat in groups, talking and laughing, while keeping an eye around the place. Sans jolted every time their eyes roved across the walltop, positive they'd be spotted. Fortunately, Papyrus had done an excellent job making sure their short, small enclosure was camouflaged to look like a walltop formation.

Several monsters had taken up wheelbarrow duty—taking empty wheelbarrows into the tunnel, and bringing wheelbarrows full of soil, stones, and rocks out. They emptied the debris against the wall, while other monsters filled buckets from the pile and emptied them into a large sifter box.

The soil dropped to a tarp underneath the sifter as monsters shook it back and forth, while solid pieces of earth stayed on the large screen. They put rocks and stones in one crate, and the occasional, rare metal ores into a large bucket. After one sifting, Sans and Papyrus noticed the familiar blue glow of a lucent gem.

An orange monster pulled it out and held it up.

“Hey, this is one of those jewels in all the walls out here,” he said, turning it in his hands. “It really does light up by itself!”

“That will be useful to help us see while we dig,” a boar monster said, slapping the monster on the shoulder, signaling a job well done.

The orange monster tossed the gem into an empty bucket, the blue light illuminating it from the bottom.

Some monsters shoveled the sifted soil into more buckets, then brought them to sets of wooden brick moulds and a few giant barrels. They filled one barrel with the soil, and poured water into it from yet another bucket as another monster slowly stirred the mud with a thick, long wooden pole. A different monster dipped a large masonry ladle into the mud from another barrel and poured it into the brick moulds, while other monsters standing over the moulds used their magic to form blue bricks. The bricks were then stacked inside a small wooden crate.

“Looks like they're going to be here for a while,” Sans whispered so quietly, Papyrus barely heard him before nodding.

Sans motioned that they should leave, and they crawled back out the enclosure, to the far side of the walltop, then went back to the shelter.

The two brothers checked back on the monsters later that afternoon to find that the crew was still hard at work. One of the carts had several crates and buckets of the sifted materials packed into it. They showed no signs of letting up, so the brothers left once again.

Sans and Papyrus returned just before dinner, and the digging had stopped. The crew was in the process of cleaning themselves up, putting away equipment, and preparing dinner. It appeared that they were done for the night, so the two skeletons finished their surveillance for the night as well.

It took an additional day before the monsters cleared through the cave-in. They slept one last night in the encampment by the tunnel entrance after spending the last remaining hours before dinnertime loading up their equipment and supplies onto the carts. The next morning, they packed up their tents and final supplies, then headed through the tunnel, continuing to follow the torch-lit path.

After the monsters started moving again, Sans and Papyrus gave them a few hours head start, then returned to the walltop, worked their way over to the tunnel wall's walltop, and began tracking the monsters and their carts, picking up their tracks up at the tunnel exit. They crept from walltop to walltop, creating bone bridges and stairs as they progressed, ensuring that, by not being on the ground, their chances of being discovered were decreased greatly.

The footprints and cart wheel tracks never strayed from the torch-lit path, and after following the tracks for most of the day, the two skeletons reached the jagged crags.

They landed on the ground from the last, normal walltop, and hurried over to the large tunnel opening piercing the large crag, making sure to step into the footprints of the other monsters. There was no way around the crags, so they would have to go into the tunnel.

They hesitated momentarily, as there would be nowhere to hide inside the tunnel—if the monsters had stopped or turned around, the two skeletons would be easily spotted.

Hoping beyond hope that the monsters had moved far ahead, they entered the tunnel. Neither one of them dared to breathe as their footsteps on the stone echoed on the walls around them, far too loudly for any of their liking.

Halfway through the tunnel, Papyrus came to an abrupt stop, holding out his arm to pause his brother.

“What is it?” Sans whispered fearfully.

“Sans,” Papyrus breathed heavily, his eyebrows furrowed upwards in worry. “Don't you remember what's at the end of this tunnel?”

Sans thought for a moment. “Yeah. The magma.”

Papyrus stared at him with wide, scared eyes. “It's a dead end. They won't be able to go any further.”

Sans' eyes also went wide, his pupils shrinking slightly.

_That's right,_ he thought to himself. _This tunnel empties out to that small stretch of land with nothing around it but magma...nowhere to go but back through this tunnel._

“What if they turn around?!” Papyrus whispered urgently, his voice strained with fear.

Sans racked his brain in the tunneled silence that surrounded them. Then it hit him.

“If they turned around,” he whispered. “We would hear them by now. Let's keep going, but slowly. The first sound we hear that isn't from us, I take us out of here.”

Papyrus nodded nervously, his lower lip quivering.

They inched along the tunnel, gripping each other's hands tightly for support and in case of emergency teleport. They strained their ears for any sounds, though it was difficult with the sounds of their souls beating so loudly in their ribcages.

The further they went, the more curious Sans was becoming. Surely the monsters would have turned away by now. Why weren't they heading back?

As they neared the end of the tunnel, Sans could see the small area of ochre clay from the small opening. There were no signs of carts or monsters at all.

Papyrus whispered with a whine. “Do you think they fell into the magma?!”

“I sure hope not,” Sans whispered with a shudder. “That would be a terrible way to go.”

Soon they saw more of the space beyond the exit, and noticed that it was not only empty, but that there was a strange, blue strip leading from the edge ahead of them. They cautiously approached the tunnel opening, their eyes scanning the area constantly for any sign of the monsters _anywhere._

It was as if the monsters and their carts had disappeared. The small bit of land between the tunnel and the edges that led to the magma river was empty, aside from the footprints and tracks that continued through the soft, ochre clay ground.

Sans chanced heading out to inspect the blue formation at the edge of the space, Papyrus following him closely behind. The two looked at it in awe.

The monsters had used the blue bricks they had created out of the soil and water from the darkened area at the caved-in tunnel to build a bridge across the gap, wide and thick enough to support the carts and their massive burdens of weight. It reached far across the divide, the slowly flowing magma river far underneath it.

“ _How did they...?!”_ Papyrus wondered out loud.

“I have no idea,” Sans answered the unfinished question. “They must be _incredible_ builders....”

Neither Sans nor Papyrus had any desire to cross the bridge, no matter how sturdy it seemed. So, checking once more to make sure that there were no monsters in sight, Sans transported him and his brother over to the base of the hardened lava flow that led up to the hole in the left-side wall.

Not wanting to spend more time in the overheated area as needed, Sans looked up the incline, and when he saw it was clear, transported up the lava flow, just past the tunnel entrance. He kept jumping ahead, bit by bit, until they reached the bottom of the last slope leading to the bend that entered the strange black and white “moving” tunnel.

They could hear the monsters before they saw them, shouting and clanging at the top of the slope. Sans and Papyrus slipped back around the corner of the previous slope, then peeked around the corner, towards the landing at the top of the slope high above them.

The crew was hard at work setting up wooden support beams, breaking into the solid stone and rock with pickaxes, and stuffing wheelbarrows full of crumbled, broken rocks. They had already cleared through several feet in what had been a short, flat wall. The carts had been parked on the slope, with large rocks pushed under all their wheels to ensure they didn't move. There were about a score of monsters crammed into the little space, and Sans could only assume that the rest of the crew and the Royal Guard were in the strange tunnel leading to the mountain's exit.

“They're digging _away_ from it,” Sans whispered to Papyrus. “Maybe you were on to something, Pap. Maybe they're digging another way out. But....” He traced the direction in his mind. “Aren't they going back _into_ the mountain? They're going the wrong way if they want to reach the outside.”

“That's it, boys!” they heard a monster shout out suddenly. “Keep yer diggin'. We need to bore through here and make 'er wide 'nough so we can set up the tents. Just a li'l bit more, then the next team will switch ya out!”

“They're going to camp here,” Papyrus whispered.

It wasn't safe for them to stay there—as soon as someone looked down the slope, they would spot the two skeleton children.

Sans returned them home, and, after dinner and their nightly chores, they transported to the area near the blue bridge and crept their way back to the corner before the final slope.

The monsters had made a large, wide hollow, and several tents were already set up along the left-side wall. It appeared that the monsters were working through the night to make space for the encampment and carts. In the short span of time, they had created a large room in the formerly solid stone.

The two skeletons watched them for a bit, curiosity keeping them where common sense would have told them to keep away. They were just about to leave when they heard a couple monsters talking loudly above the constant hits of a score of pickaxes.

“Sir, you folks gonna stay with us through the next year?”

_The next year?!_ Sans mouthed to Papyrus in utter astonishment.

“No, not all of us,” the Guard replied. “We didn't know what we'd find here—or _who._ That's why this detachment was so large. But don't worry—we'll stick around for another week or so, just to make sure the area's safe. Then most of us will head back, leaving just a handful to stay and protect you and your crew. We still don't know if the humans plan to barge right in, or if they even _can_ enter the mountain with that wretched _thing_ they put up over it. So there'll always be some Guards here while you're building that structure.”

Sans and Papyrus exchanged curious and stunned looks.

_Structure?!_

“Thank you kindly, sir,” the monster replied. “We much appreciate it. At least we'll have the rest o' the tents set up once we clear this here space out a touch more. And thank goodness we're out o' that blasted heat!”

The monster went back to his crew, the Guard went back to his soldiers, and with this new information, a million questions, and no further need to stick around, Sans and Papyrus went back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story hit 200 kudos! Thank you all SO MUCH! I am floored by how many people actually like this story! It means so much to me to know that this little headcanon story of mine is enjoyed by so many people! From the bottom of my soul, THANK YOU! :D


	53. Chapter 53

Sans and Papyrus sat on the bed, facing each other cross-legged, yet staring between them at the violet squares on the purple blanket. Once again, silence hung over them as their minds were peppered with thoughts and questions.

“So,” Sans said suddenly, tearing through the silence as if they had currently been deep in conversation. “What do we know?” He started counting on his fingers with each point. “The builders are planning on staying there for about a year. They're building some sort of structure. They're building near the mountain opening, but _away_ from the outer wall of the mountain that would lead outside. Um....”

“The Royal Guard is only going to stay for a week or so,” Papyrus added, aiding his brother's memory.

“Right,” Sans nodded, counting his brother's fact on his index finger. He then held out his thumb. “And there will be some members of the Royal Guard there at all times, just not a lot.”

There was silence as Sans kept his hand up with his fingers extended, both of them staring into space as they replayed the events of that night in their mind.

“I think that's it,” Papyrus said, tilting his head as he strained his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Sans agreed, lowering his hand. “But what we don't know is if other builders are going to join them later on, when the Royal Guard is going to change their watches, and what that structure is.”

Sans blew a deep sigh steeped in discouragement. There could potentially be a regular flow of monsters coming and going from the purple cavern and throughout the mountain now.

Papyrus heard his brother's downhearted sigh and looked up at him.

“Yeah, but,” Papyrus stressed, trying to brighten his brother. “They stuck with the main path _the whole way._ So the others will probably do the same thing. And whatever they're building has to be important, because the Royal Guard is there, and they work for the kingdom. So maybe they're building something that gets us out of this mountain. _And_ they're going to be working in that spot for a whole year. So they're only worried about getting to _that_ spot, not wandering all over the mountain like we do. We just have to be more careful now when we go outside. That's all.”

“Mmm,” Sans murmured, not sure if he was completely convinced. He preferred it much more when the monsters were in the purple cavern and never left through those giant stone doors.

He continued staring into nothingness, then shut his eyes tight, rubbing his face with his hand in frustration. He looked up at Papyrus.

“We should get to bed,” he said wearily. “It's late, we're tired, and we could be up all night thinking about the million things that might and might not happen.”

Papyrus was all for that idea, and started crawling over to his side of the bed, retrieving Teddy from under the covers at his pillow.

Sans slid under the blanket and covered them up, his mind swirling with what he had seen, heard, and was worried about.

“Sans?”

Papyrus' little voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” he answered.

Papyrus' face was timid and hopeful, the sight of his brother's expression reminding Sans of when he was much younger.

“Can you tell me a bedtime story?” Papyrus asked so softly, the fire in the other room almost drowned him out.

Sans' face melted into a warm smile, happy to distract himself—and his brother—from the worrisome thoughts that swirled around.

“Sure, Pap,” he answered with a small, breathy laugh.

Their minds were soon filled with the story from Sans' imagination, a story about the Royal Guard Papyrus and his valiant battle against the evil human army.

Breakfast the following morning was a much calmer affair. While the two brothers still held feelings of dread, worry, and fear, a good night's rest did wonders to abate the burdening feelings.

Sans finished the last of his granola cereal as Papyrus popped the final bite of his buttery, apple jellied multigrain toast into his mouth. With content sighs signaling yet another delicious breakfast consumed, they stood up and started clearing their dishes from the table, bringing them into the fire room to wash as they finalized their shopping list.

As much as Sans really wanted to go back to the work area to learn more about the structure and the monsters' plans, Papyrus was right—watching them dig into the stone and rock wasn't worth the risk of getting caught. And besides, Papyrus had added, they might find out more information about what was going on, especially from Pipermel. Sans just needed to make sure that he worded his inquiries right, perhaps mentioning that he happened to see carts leaving the city or something to that effect.

Once they had put the dishes away and cleaned up, they got dressed and ready for the market.

“I feel really bad,” Sans said, looking longingly at the nearly empty mushroom basket. “We never got to collect any mushrooms the other day because of the carts....”

“I'm sure they'll understand,” Papyrus said, tilting his head and upturning his eyebrows in sympathy. “And we can bring double next week to make up for it.”

“Mmm...,” Sans grumbled.

“Don't feel bad, Sans,” Papyrus urged. “You didn't know we'd see those monsters out here.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sans muttered, then turned from the basket and sighed. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Papyrus said with a smile he hoped would wash his brother's disheartenment away.

Sans grinned, took his brother's hand, and then they were gone.

As soon as they appeared in the same spot they always arrived—at the corner of the masonry work area and the first brick building in the row—they notice the glaring openness of the wide, open work area.

Normally, the large lot was filled with wheelbarrows, piles of tarps, carts, and crates along the back—which hid their appearances through the blue flame week after week—with the usual sounds of monsters working off towards the other side, but most of the supplies, equipment, carts, and monsters were gone. While the brothers knew where they had all gone—to the spot high up in the magma area's wall—it was still jarring to see the work area so vacant. Fortunately, it didn't appear that any monsters were working in the work area at all, so although their arrival had been somewhat exposed, no one was around to see the large, blue flame that appeared out of nowhere with two little children walking through it.

They slipped down the regular alleyway between the first and second buildings and entered the street, monsters passing them by from one place to another. Since they did not have mushrooms to donate, Sans hadn't brought the compost bag—there was no need to go all the way over to the community center just to put a small bag of rubbish in the cart—so they headed straight for the market.

After passing a few buildings, Papyrus stopped to look up under his scarf “hood” at the buildings.

“I sure do miss those decorations,” he said softly. “They made the buildings look so much nicer....”

Sans had kept walking until he heard his brother's voice behind him. With his hood up over his head, he hadn't noticed that Papyrus had stopped a bit further back. Sans turned around and watched his brother stare at the buildings, recalling the festoons of orange flowers and green flames.

Suddenly, a pair of large arms flung around Sans—one wrapping around his lower torso, pinning his arms to his side, the other clamping a hand tightly over his mouth. With a sickening lurch and a jolt of fear to his soul, he felt himself yanked backwards and hoisted up, as the one who grabbed him carried him down a nearby alleyway.

“Well, look who it is,” a voice that sent a wave of terror through Sans hissed in his ear. “If it isn't the little traitor.”

Sans tried to scream, but the hand over his mouth muffled his cries. He kicked with all his might, however his small, lightweight feet did nothing to the vicious green cat who had taken him.

The cat gripped him tighter as he made his way down the long, narrow alley, and Sans felt his bones pop and crack under the pressure.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” the cruel feline hissed. “It will only make your death far more painful.”

Sans struggled and wriggled, but the grip the cat had on him was far too strong, and panic surged through him. He just hoped with all his soul that Papyrus was still staring at the buildings, safely far away.

The cat broke into a run, then whistled as he approached the end of the alley. The cat's friends, the raccoon and the purple bird, stepped out from another alleyway.

“Lookit what I caught, boys,” the cat laughed cruelly.

“Ain't this the kid who got us imprisoned that time?” the raccoon growled, jabbing painfully into Sans' ribcage.

“Yeah, that's him,” the bird sneered, flicking Sans' eyes with his wingtip. “I'd recognize that traitor scum anywhere.”

The monsters were no longer teenagers. They were now fully grown adults—far bigger, stronger, and much more terrifying than the last time Sans ran into them.

“You two,” the feline spat. “Head down that alley, make sure no one followed us. I'm going to take this little traitor to the masonry pit to show him what we do to traitors in this city.”

Sans' eyes were wide with fear, and he kept trying to break free. His left hand was too tightly pinned to his side—he couldn't summon any bones—and without his feet on the ground, he couldn't transport. He was in serious danger.

The two thugs ran off down the alleyway as the cat ran towards the masonry work area.

“Lucky for me,” the cat hissed with deep malice. “The workers are all off on some project. That means _no witnesses._ ”

The last two words sent a terrible chill of fear up Sans' spine.

“Maybe I'll bury you alive,” the feline mused tauntingly. “Or maybe I'll use a pickaxe to dig into that skull of yours. Or maybe, even, I'll take one of the sledgehammers and break every single bone in your body—one by one.”

As the cat laughed, Sans strained, kicked, and screamed as loud as he could—but he was held too tight, and his cries for help were blocked by the cruel hand covering his mouth.

They entered the vacant masonry work area, and the cat carried Sans towards the back—far away from any monsters who could possibly rescue him.

“Boss! Hey boss!”

The cat turned around, and Sans shouted a muffled cry of terror.

The cat's thugs had returned, and the raccoon was holding up Papyrus by the scruff of his shirt. The small skeleton weighed next to nothing, and the raccoon shook him as he displayed him to the cat. Papyrus' face was still covered, but Sans could see the fear in his brother's eyes.

“We found this kid running down that alley.”

The cat had heard Sans' smothered cry when he saw Papyrus, and instantly understood that Sans knew Papyrus.

“So,” the cat hissed in Sans' ear. “Who's this little guy, huh?”

The bird reached up and yanked off the scarf from Papyrus as he wriggled, still suspended in the air by the raccoon's hold on his shirt.

“Another traitor to monsterkind,” the cat exclaimed with a sickeningly gleeful tone. “That makes this _much_ better.”

“S-Sans...,” Papyrus whimpered fearfully as he looked at his helpless brother.

Sans looked at his brother with eyes wide with fear, his eyebrows furrowed upwards in severe concern for him. Sans continued struggling to no avail. If only he could get his arm free.

“Oh ho ho!” The cat laughed, causing his two friends to join him. “Looks like we finally got the name to this traitor—Sans!”

Papyrus put on the bravest face he could manage in his utter terror. “L-let my brother g-go! N-now!”

All three monsters laughed heartily. Sans whimpered behind the cat's hand, and the brave front Papyrus had put up melted away to one of worried fear.

“So this little traitor is your brother,” the cat hissed amusingly. “Well, Sans, let me pay you back for what you did to us by making you _sans_ your little brother—as you watch.”

Sans screamed at the top of his lungs into the palm of the cat's hand, pleadingly and desperately. He struggled with all his might, panic consuming every part of him.

“Take that red thing and tie it back on the little traitor,” the cat called to his thugs. “Let's see if his head pops off.”

The monsters laughed as Sans continued his stifled screaming, his tears pouring down his face, soaking the cat's hand. As the tears rolled down the back of his hand, the cat laughed even louder, thoroughly overjoyed to see his victim suffer.

The bird wrapped the scarf once around Papyrus' neck as he flailed and cried. The bird took one side and the raccoon grabbed the other, and they both started pulling the scarf tightly. Papyrus shut his eyes and clutched at the cloth digging into his neck. The little skeleton was suspended in midair as the two monsters played their deadly game of tug-o-war, strangling Papyrus slowly.

Sans tried with all his strength to break free, but the cat was just too strong. All he could do was scream into the feline's palm as he watched the thugs throttle his little brother with his own scarf.

Papyrus gagged, opening and closing his mouth in desperate attempts to breathe, as he hung between the raccoon and the bird, unable to pull the cloth away from his neck. The pressure building up in his head made it throb as he became weaker with each moment.

He feebly opened one eye to look at his brother, who was still sobbing and screaming under the cat's hand, his legs kicking back at his assailant desperately, but uselessly.

The cat laughed viciously. “Don't cry too hard, Sans. You're next!”

Papyrus heard the cat and gasped what little air he could manage in fear for his brother.

Sans had always been taught by his parents that he should never, _ever_ use his magic against another monster to harm them.

Papyrus had not.

Papyrus raised his right hand, and white bones shot from the ground at all three monsters.

The two monsters pulling his scarf fell backwards, struck by the attacks, releasing the scarf immediately. Papyrus fell to the ground with a painful thud, his ribs and left elbow shattering with the impact.

The cat was hit on both sides by white bones, the pain causing him to let go of Sans, who instantly rushed to his coughing and gagging brother.

“Get them!” the cat screamed angrily as he clutched his sides, then ran at the two skeletons, his sharp claws raised.

Sans helped Papyrus up, sobbing as he embraced him, but Papyrus saw the monsters closing in on them and pushed Sans aside to stand in front of him. Papyrus' face was livid with fury, still heaving as he gasped for breath, his scarf loosely wrapped around his neck and shoulders. He swiped his right arm in a downward swing, sending a barrage of blue bones flying at the three thugs.

The monsters were pummeled by Papyrus' attack, the bones injuring the monsters as they cowardly tried to escape them. They writhed on the ground in pain, groaning and grunting.

“Kill them!” the cat cried, pointing at the two skeletons from where he laid on his side. “Get up you morons and _kill them! Now!”_

Papyrus raised his hand to send forth another attack, but Sans covered his brother's hand and lowered it. Raising his left hand and narrowing his tear-filled eyes, he created a tall bone cell that shot up from the ground, encircling the three monsters.

They slammed against the bone bars, then grasped them, rattling them in a vain attempt to break them.

“Let us out!” they cried viciously. _“Let us out!”_

Sans and Papyrus turned their backs on them and were suddenly engulfed in a large, blue flame, then were gone.

“ _Good riddance!”_ the cat screamed at the top of his lungs. “Stupid traitors! Burned up alive! _Haha!_ Hey! Whoever did that—thank you! Now let us out of here!”

They stood there, clutching the bones, waiting for the one who had burned the skeleton children up in the blue fire to show themselves and free them from their bone prison.

But nobody came.

Sans and Papyrus returned to the shelter, their fear-stricken panting echoing off the snowy walls. Papyrus whimpered as he held his right hand to his elbow. The green healing glow illuminated their tear-soaked faces as Sans stood, shaking, gasping for breath, and watching his brother heal himself in silence. The empty haversack slipped off his shoulders and fell to the floor.

After the green glow subsided when Papyrus' ribs had been healed, the two brothers looked at each other with heaving sobs. Then they hugged one another tightly, the relief that they had escaped barely minimizing the severe trauma they had just endured. They wept silently on each other's shoulders, gripping one another closely and desperately, terrified to ever let go.

The soothing light of the ever-burning magical flame in the other room bathed the two brothers as they remained in their tearful embrace throughout the rest of the night.


	54. Chapter 54

Papyrus was running down the long alleyway in the purple city.

“Sans!” he called out as he cupped his scarfed face. “Sans! Where are you?”

There was no answer. He was starting to panic—where could his brother have gotten to?

In the distance, he saw movement, and quickened his pace.

“Sans!” he cried out, cupping his mouth with one hand and waving the other high up in the air. “I'm here, Sans! _I'm here!”_

The shadowy figure came into view as it sped up the alleyway towards the little skeleton.

It wasn't Sans.

The giant raccoon raced towards Papyrus, his sharp, white malicious grin and dangerous red eyes glowing in the dim alley.

Papyrus squeaked with fear as he came to a skidding halt. He turned around and tried to get back to the main street, but he suddenly felt the harsh grasp of claws at his shoulder blades, clutching his spine between his ribs through the back of his shirt. He cried out as he was hoisted up and swung around as the raccoon returned back down the alleyway.

He was soon brought before the massive green cat. The feline's eyes were glowing red like the magma river as he stared at him with vicious glee.

Sans was being held by the large cat, his mouth covered by a huge, green hand, his body pinned to the cat's chest with his other arm. Only his legs were free to move, and they kicked fiercely when his brother saw him. Papyrus felt a chill go up his spine as he heard his brother's smothered screams.

_Oh no—Sans!_

All the little skeleton could do was dangle there, helplessly. He never felt as little and pathetic in all his life as he did watching his brother held down by the cruel feline and unable to do anything to save him.

“What is that tiny little thing you have there?” the cat asked tauntingly.

The scarf was ripped from his head, the yanking motion cracking his head to the side painfully.

He hung there, held up high on display in the raccoon's grasp, his feet dangling as his head and neck were now exposed.

All three monsters pointed at him and laughed. The sound of their raucous laughter made his ears hurt as it vibrated through his skull.

“ _Haha!_ What a tiny little babybones!”

“A little babybones who thinks he can stop us?! _Haha!!_ ”

“The babybones came to rescue his big brother, what a fool! _Hahaha!!!_ ”

Papyrus couldn't speak. All he could do was listen to the three savage monsters laughing at him, and feel completely useless to help his captured brother.

Sans was watching Papyrus staring up at the building, patiently waiting for him to finish and catch up with him.

Suddenly, a pair of green arms ensnared him like thick vines and pulled him backwards with great force.

“Well, well, well....” the cat's voice was everywhere—inside his head, echoing off the walls, and coming from all around him.

_No! Not again! Not you again!!!_

Sans tried to scream, but the cry that tore through his throat was blocked by the giant green hand over his mouth. The cat's other arm tightened around him, and Sans felt his bones breaking, one by one. Then the cat started running down the alleyway at top speed.

Shivers ran up his spine as he felt the hot breath of the feline on the top of his skull while he was clutched against the cat's body like a precious treasure. He kicked backwards as hard as he could, but his shoes just harmlessly bounced off the feline's massive body.

The cat whistled, the shrill sound causing Sans to flinch. Out of the shadows came the raccoon and the purple bird, their eyes jet black like death.

“Find the other skeleton,” the cat hissed, and Sans could feel the deep tone through the cat's chest on his back.

_Papyrus! Run! Wherever you are—run!!!_

The two monsters ran off as Sans was brought to the masonry area.

When the cat finally came to a halt, he shifted the arm of the hand over Sans' mouth to pin Sans against him as he freed his other, left hand. Then he grabbed Sans' left upper arm in his giant hand.

“Won't be needing this anymore,” the cat hissed with an evil laugh.

Sans forced a bloodcurdling scream into the cat's hand as his left arm was ripped off his body at the scapula, his jacket sleeve tearing like paper. He sobbed in excruciating pain as he saw the cat toss his arm off to the side, and watched through flooding tears as it dusted off.

“Boss, we have him.”

The cat turned with the weeping skeleton to face the returning monsters, and Sans cried out at the top of his lungs when he saw Papyrus in the raccoon's hand, held up by the scruff of his shirt.

_No! Papyrus! No!!!_

The laughter of the three monsters finally died down.

“Take that scarf and tie him up,” the cat growled with a laugh. “I'll let his big brother watch what happens to his mighty rescuer.”

Papyrus felt the long, red cloth wrap around his neck, then tighten. The grip on his back released, but he was still suspended in the air by his own scarf as the two monsters pulled it tightly.

The throbbing pain in his head was excruciating, pounding like a drum against his skull. He tried to gasp air, but the scarf was too tight around his neck. He scratched and clawed at his neck, but couldn't loosen the constricted fabric.

All around him, the three monsters continued to laugh at him.

Papyrus felt himself grow weaker as he watched through half open lids as the cat tossed Sans aside like a stuffed animal and walked over to Papyrus, putting his hands around his throat, crushing his neck.

“After I kill him,” he heard the cat say. “I'm going to kill _you_ next, Sans.”

_No...Sans...not Sans...n-not...S-sans...._

The raccoon shook Papyrus like a floppy teddy bear. “What do we do with him?”

“Kill him,” the cat said with a deep laugh. “This one can watch his brother die.”

Sans kicked, screamed, flailed, squirmed—desperately panicking as he strove to stop the monsters from killing his brother. They could do whatever they wanted to him, he didn't care. But not Papyrus.

_Not Papyrus! Kill me instead! But leave my little brother alone!!! Let him go, please!!!_

The purple bird yanked the scarf off his brother and tied it around his neck. Then the two monsters took one side of the scarf each and started pulling with all their might. Papyrus was suspended in the middle of the taut scarf, kicking out as he struggled to loosen the scarf pressing into his neck tightly. Sans heard his strangled gags as the monsters pulled harder.

Sans struggled and screamed with all his strength.

_No!!! Papyrus!!! Stop!!! Please stop!!! You're killing him!!! You're killing him!!! Papyrus!!! Papyrus!!!_

Sans woke up with a start, bolting straight up in the bed, gasping sharply. Disorientated from the nightmare, he tried to see through the dimly lit room and his bleary vision.

“...Pa...Papyrus...,” he panted, still half asleep as he turned his head left and right, looking for the monsters and his brother.

He looked down and saw Papyrus, laying on his side with his back to him, grunting and gagging in his sleep. The blanket was still pulled up over his shoulder, tucked under his chin. In the dreamy haze, Sans mistook the blanket for his scarf and gasped again, throwing himself upon his brother to pull the scarf off Papyrus' neck so he could breathe.

Papyrus stirred as he felt Sans' hands around his neck and, thinking that it was the vicious cat, woke with a startled cry and struck Sans hard in the skull with his right arm.

Sans tumbled back towards his side of the bed, and only had a moment to wince and grunt in pain before he was blasted out of the bed by a salvo of white bones. He skidded painfully across the floor and struck the book crates with his head and shoulder blades.

He groaned and held his skull as he opened one eye and looked over at the bed.

Papyrus still had his right hand extended towards him, his eyes narrowed as his chest heaved with his slow panting, his left hand clutching his neck.

“Pap!” Sans crossed his arms over his face, expecting another wave of bones to fire off at him. “Pap, it's me! _It's me!”_

Papyrus breathed heavily, staring across the dim room at the figure lying on the floor. Slowly the haze of sleep drifted, taking the nightmare with it.

“Sans...?” he blinked, then gasped softly.

“Yeah, it's me, Pap,” Sans lowered his arms to show his face.

It took a moment for Papyrus to realize he had just attacked his brother in their own bed instead of the cat in his nightmare.

“Oh no! Sans!” Papyrus gasped, hurling himself off the bed to be by his brother's side.

Sans sat up on the floor, grunting deeply as his injured bones throbbed. Papyrus attended to the wounds he had caused, his hands glowing green as he healed his brother's skull, three ribs, sternum, right collar bone, and left forearm.

“Sans, I'm so sorry,” he apologized profusely. “I thought...I-I thought....”

Sans put his hands on his brother's shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye.

“It was a nightmare,” he said soothingly through his pain. “You didn't mean it. I know you didn't mean it.”

“I felt...I felt...,” Papyrus' eyes welled up with tears as he slowly brought his hands up to his neck.

Sans understood, and his heart broke for his little brother. Sans' nightmare was terrible—he could only imagine what Papyrus' had been like.

Sans hugged his brother, rocking him back and forth as the little skeleton cried loudly into his shoulder.

“Shh, shh, shh...,” Sans soothed. “It's ok, Pap.... It's ok.... They're gone now. They're not going to hurt you anymore.”

Sans shut his eyes tightly as tears fell, knowing from his own experience that that wasn't true.

The hurt those terrible monsters had caused his brother had only just begun.

Papyrus sat on the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands. So many emotions were racing through his mind and soul—fear from the nightmare, sadness from watching a replay of his brother's capture, shame for attacking and injuring his real brother, and other feelings he couldn't identify.

He felt Sans sitting next to him on the bed.

“Here,” he heard his brother say softly. “This will help.”

Papyrus lowered his hands from his face and looked down at the mug Sans held out for him. He took it, feeling the warmth against his cupped hands. The familiar, flowery scent of his brother's chamomile tea wafted up from the mug.

“I put a bit of snow in it, to cool it down,” Sans explained, sipping his own mugful of the tea.

Papyrus raised the mug to his lips and took a sip. His face wrinkled at the taste, having never had tea before in his life.

“You get used to it,” Sans said into his mug as he took a deep draught.

Papyrus took another sip and swallowed the liquid down, then sighed as he rested the mug on his little lap.

Sans drained his mug, then rubbed his brother's shoulder. “I'm so sorry you had a bad dream over what happened, Pap....”

“Mmm...,” Papyrus murmured, still feeling guilty for what he had done.

“You should try to get some sleep,” Sans said, rubbing his brother's back gently.

“But...what if I dream it again...?” Papyrus asked in a whimper.

 _Unfortunately,_ Sans thought to himself, _you will._

“Nah,” Sans lied. “That tea will get rid of those nightmares completely.”

Papyrus gulped the tea down, his nasal bridge crinkled as he drank. When he finished the tea, Sans took the mug from him as he crawled back into his side of the bed. Papyrus clutched Teddy as Sans pulled the blanket up and tucked his brother in.

“Sleep tight, Pap,” Sans grinned, then stood up and put the mugs into the washing bucket in the fire room. When he emerged, he went over to the pantry and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the floor to ease the pain coursing through his recovering bones.

“Aren't you coming to bed?” Papyrus asked.

“I will,” Sans said through a mouthful of apple. “I just need to fix that first.”

He pointed over to the wall opposite the bed. Papyrus looked at it and wailed with a groan.

The snowy wall had several small holes punctured through it—caused by the bones Papyrus had fired off at his brother. Papyrus felt even worse now.

“No, no, no,” Sans said, shaking his head and waggling his hands. “Don't feel bad—it's not your fault, and it's not that bad.”

He had already scooped up some snow from the pile and was filling in one of the holes.

Papyrus thumped his head against the pillow, frustrated and ashamed of the damage he had caused without even knowing what he was doing.

“Get some sleep, Pap,” Sans urged as he filled another hole. “I'll be there in a minute.”

As Sans fixed the wall, Papyrus drifted off to sleep. When the wall was whole again, Sans sat in his seat at the little snow dining table and rested his elbows on top of it. He folded his hands and rested his head against them, his lower lip pressed against his two index fingers as he held up his chin with his thumbs.

He narrowed his eyes as he fell deep into thought while he looked over at Papyrus, wincing with each slumbering whimper and moan from his brother, signaling the replay of his nightmare. Sans sighed heavily as he watched his brother sleep fitfully through the night.

He _hated_ what those monsters had done to his poor brother. He was just a little kid, and they brutally tried to kill him, right before his eyes. The anger that he bore for the three monsters soon shifted upon himself.

 _He_ should have protected his brother. _He_ should have never brought him to the city knowing that skeleton-hating monsters were around. _He_ should have been stronger and smarter. _He_ should have been the one to attack the monsters, not leave it to his little brother to do. _He_ should have done something, _anything,_ to prevent the whole situation.

As he watched his brother toss and turn in his sleep, whimpering as his hands occasionally strayed to his neck, Sans vowed that he would never, _ever_ let anyone hurt his little brother _ever_ again.


	55. Chapter 55

During the next several days, the two brothers did not leave the shelter. They rested their healed injuries, using the need to recover from their previously broken bones as an excuse to stay in their secluded, secure shelter. Truth be told, Papyrus' healing magic was getting much stronger as the years progressed—they barely had any pain or stiffness in the days that followed.

Much of the time had been spent in bed—Papyrus had become exhausted from his constant nightmares, having not been able to get restful sleep since the night before the attack.

Sans had barely slept. Sure, he had vicious nightmares, but they weren't what kept him up, night after night. The whimpering, the twitching, the tossing and turning, the crying out—his brother's tortured nights haunted him. How could he sleep, when his brother was suffering so severely?

When Papyrus wasn't in bed, he was playing with his toys along the opposite wall from the bed, near the book crates. Sans stayed in bed, blanket pulled up to his neck, laying on his side, facing the snowy wall, staring at the white nothingness as his mind raced with millions of thoughts. He rarely left the bed, except to help his brother with chores and his brother's meals.

Meals that had become meager once more. As they had not made it to the market that terrible day, nor did Sans have any desire to return to the city any time soon, the pantry supply was thinning down. Sans made sure Papyrus had enough to keep him healthy, not wanting to add malnourishment and hunger to his current struggles.

As for Sans, he barely ate anything. Hunger completely eluded him. Feeling as though everything his brother went through was his own fault, any time he _did_ eat, he would grab a handful of snow to eat. He left the remaining food for his brother, deeming himself unworthy to partake in it since he was to blame for their not having any groceries. He didn't deserve real food, and his brother deserved so much more for what he had endured.

The shelter was quiet. The two brothers barely spoke, talking only when necessary. It wasn't the painful silence that filled the shelter when they were too afraid that the other brother hated their presence. This was a silence steeped with the constant barrage of intrusive thoughts, worries, and replayed memories, all of which screamed into the ears of both skeletons with deafening tones.

Sans chopped nuts at the little prep table as Papyrus heated up the tiny bit of oatmeal over the magical fire.

Papyrus came into the main room and headed to the pantry to retrieve their wooden bowls. Sans glanced over, and he noticed his brother had taken both bowls down.

“None for me, Pap,” he said, shaking his head.

“Sans,” Papyrus protested. “You have to eat, too.”

“I'll eat later,” Sans lied, turning his attention to his chopping.

Papyrus sighed. “You always say that now. But you never do....”

“No, I do,” Sans said softly. “You just don't see.”

“I don't mean snow, Sans,” Papyrus said firmly.

The little skeleton looked at his brother's face—he had become much more gaunt over the last several days, due to his lack of food and his stress over what had happened to them.

Sans didn't answer him, and after a few moments, Papyrus sighed with resignation and put one of the bowls back on the shelf, then took the single bowl into the fire room. After scraping every last oat from the little pot, he took the bowl back to his brother, who then sprinkled the chopped nuts on top of the small portion of oatmeal.

They went and sat at the little dining table, Papyrus starting on his simple breakfast, Sans leaning his elbows on the table and resting his head on his hands.

As much as it concerned Papyrus to see Sans going without food once again, he was glad that his brother didn't just head back to bed like he had done the previous mornings.

After a short period of silence, Sans spoke, mentioning the very thing that had been on his mind all morning.

“So, it's been a week,” he said, watching his brother eat. “The Royal Guard should be heading back to the city.”

Papyrus still had his spoon in his mouth as he looked up at Sans.

“I want to make sure they head back before we go and collect mushrooms again,” Sans continued. “The last thing we need is to get caught while foraging for food....”

Sans shut his eyes and sighed. It hurt to have to resort to foraging to survive once again. Especially after enjoying the abundant, fresh food from the market for decades. But he didn't want to go back to the city. Not for a while. And perhaps not ever again.

“How do we make sure they do?” Papyrus asked, pulling his spoon out from his mouth.

“We should hang out in our little spot above our training area,” Sans answered. “Not only will we be able to see them easily without being spotted, but we can spend hours there, reading or whatever, while we wait. The Guard didn't give an exact time, so it could be days before they actually make it back.”

“What if they don't go right back to the city?” Papyrus inquired, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“If they haven't come back in another week, we'll go back to the building site and see if they're still there,” Sans replied, folding his arms on the table in front of him. “If they aren't, well.... They could be anywhere. But let's just hope they come back soon so that it's one less thing for us to worry about.”

“Yeah,” Papyrus agreed, nodding as he scraped the bottom of his bowl, gathering oatmeal and nuts up onto his spoon.

“We'll go after breakfast,” Sans said.

Breakfast didn't last too long, for Papyrus only had half a dozen spoonfuls of food in his bowl, which bothered Sans immensely. He hated that his little brother, once again, didn't have a lot to eat anymore.

After washing Papyrus' dishes and the little pot, they got ready to go. Sans put on his jacket and grabbed his brother's scarf, but when he turned around, Papyrus had a horrified look on his face.

“I-I don't want to wear th-that...,” Papyrus said in a scared voice so low, Sans barely heard him.

Sans looked down at the strip of red cloth in his hand and shut his eyes tightly, clutching the fabric in sadness.

His brother's red scarf, which had come from their mother's own Royal Guard cape that she had cut off to protect Papyrus that day so very long ago. The scarf that kept the wintry chill from the little skeleton's bones. And now he was too terrified to wear it. Because of what _they_ had done to him with it....

Sans didn't blame Papyrus at all for feeling that way towards the scarf. How hard had it been for him to see the claw holes in his haversack after his first attack with the vicious cat? He could only imagine the terror was tenfold the amount for what his brother endured with the precious strip of red cloth.

Sans returned the scarf to the coat hook with heartbreaking sorrow and seething anger, then turned back to his brother, Papyrus' eyes still on the red strip, a glazed look over his eyes.

_He's replaying it over again...,_ Sans thought, his heart sinking.

He stepped in front of the scarf, blocking it from his brother's view, and Papyrus blinked, then looked at him.

“Pap, do you want to wear my jacket?” he offered.

“No,” Papyrus' eyes shifted to the floor. “I'll be okay....”

Despite his concern for his brother sitting up in the high reading nook all day without anything to keep the cold air from seeping down his shirt collar, Sans didn't want to press him further, making him feel worse than he already did. He wished, at that moment, that he had a smaller blanket to take along, and knew it was too late now, as he couldn't get to the tailor's shop to purchase the fabric to make one.

“If you get too cold, tell me,” Sans said gently. “We'll come right back here and warm up.”

“No!” Papyrus countered quickly, as if he'd been jerked out of a ruminating thought. “We might miss them coming back if we do. No...I will be fine. We should go.”

Sans stood there, looking into his brother's tired, emotionally drained eyes, his soul aching as his brother's gleaming, cheerful eyes had dimmed because of what had happened. With a sigh, he relented, and walked over to the book crates, his brother following.

Over the last several years, the book crates had grown to two towers of four small wooden crates, side by side.

The right tower was Papyrus', and was filled mostly with books on the Royal Guard, but there were also a few books written for children on the basics of cooking. Stuck between many of the books were pieces of paper on which Papyrus had written notes during his reading—battle tactics, difficult words to find definitions for later, and cooking ideas.

The left crate tower was Sans'. The top two crates housed his volumes of completed journals, and the lower two were crammed with science books—astronomy, of course, natural sciences, physics, chemistry, and more. On top of the tower sat his current journal with his quill box, a small wooden box of charcoal pieces for writing quick notes, and a stack of blank books filled with his study notes—the one on top his most recent one, which he was filling up quickly.

On the floor beside Sans' book crates was a small, square basket, stuffed with scrap pieces of parchment and paper. Sans would tear up parchment paper from their groceries—ensuring that there were no stains or food particles—and place them in the basket, but the rubbish pit offered an infinite source of usable, albeit water-logged, bits of paper and parchment. The two brothers used the scrap paper for note-taking, mostly, so the condition of the paper didn't need to be perfect.

Sans chose a book on geophysics that had a few chapters on volcanoes, the small box of charcoal, and grabbed several pieces of scrap paper, slipping them into the pages of his book. Papyrus picked out a Royal Guard training resource book and took a few pieces of paper for himself to use.

Then they went up to their little reading nook, high up on the rocky wall in the corner of the valley, to read, to try to relax, but mostly, to wait and watch for the returning members of the Royal Guard detachment.

Sans had barely read a word, his book open to the same page for the last four hours. His eyes were trained on the edge of the valley, where the darkened area began, at the last torches before the torch-lit trail was hidden from sight by the snow cavern’s rocky wall. His mind, however, had been running all over the place.

What was he going to do?

Everything seemed to have changed suddenly. The mason workers and the Royal Guard had invaded their freedom to explore and roam the mountain. The vicious cat and his two thugs violently robbed them of their weekly market routine, their fear preventing them from getting food, supplies, and that normalcy they had grown so accustomed to having.

It was like living through their first few months trapped in the mountain again—not enough food, and hiding from anything that breathed.

Once the Guard returned, Sans would be able to get mouseshroom nightlights, so Papyrus wouldn’t starve, but…no more pancakes, no more wedges of cheese, no more fresh loaves of bread, no more milk or bananas or granola or chocolate chip cookies or—

A loud growl emitted from the depths of Sans’ stomach. He clutched at his lower torso, swallowed the excess of saliva that watered his mouth, and hoped that Papyrus hadn’t—

“Sans? Are you okay?”

Sans looked over at his brother, curled up in his chair facing him with his knees tight against his chest, leaning on the chair’s back as he huddled with his book. His eyebrows were raised in concern, his lower lip quivering.

Sans broke out his grin, eyes shut tight, masking his face.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “I just—”

Something landed against his lower torso and plopped onto his lap. Sans opened his eyes and looked down at it.

It was a small apple.

Sans looked over at Papyrus. He had a rather stern, yet saddened, look upon his face.

“Pap, no, I—” Sans said, picking up the apple and getting ready to toss it back.

“ _Eat_. _It_.”

Sans was taken aback by the firm tone Papyrus had used, punctuating each word with a subtle flick of his eyebrows that insisted that his brother do so.

Sans hesitated. This was an apple his brother might be starving for later.

“Sans, if you don’t eat that, I will never eat another bite of food again,” Papyrus threatened.

At a loss, and truly quite hungry for food that wasn’t made of precipitation, Sans reluctantly chomped down on the juicy, sweet fruit. As he ate the apple, Papyrus slowly returned to his reading, glancing up every so often to make sure his brother ate the whole thing.

Papyrus was beside himself with worry about his brother. Sans didn't eat anymore, stayed in bed most of the day, and was withdrawn all of the time. He had portioned out the food for Papyrus to cook—only enough for a single meal—and no matter how much Papyrus had urged him to partake in the meager portions, his brother had refused. He knew it was because of the traumatic attack, and Papyrus couldn't help but feel terrible that he wasn't able to help his brother before he had been grabbed.

Papyrus stared at the page he was on, eyes looking at the diagram of different defensive stances, but seeing that terrible day in his mind instead. He was furious at himself for stopping to look at the bare buildings, letting his brother go off ahead of him. He never even saw him get grabbed, he had been so oblivious. If he had just remained with his brother, been more vigilant, none of it would have happened.

But then again...he was too little. What could he have possibly done?

_I'm nothing more than a little babybones. Can't even help my brother when he needs it the most...._

Papyrus clenched his fist, hating his small size and young age. He was too little to protect Sans that day, too little for Sans to listen to him when he begged him to eat, too little to do anything important at all.

_Stupid, useless, tiny babybones...no wonder they all laughed at me...._

Papyrus wiped the tear that trickled down the side of his face and gave a quick sniffle. Then his body shuddered—the action of wiping his tear allowed a small draft down the collar of his shirt. He was freezing, missing the warmth and coziness that the scarf gave him, but...the thought of the fabric around his neck made his throat close up, and he shuddered once more from the memory of the tightening scarf around his neck.

“Pap? You cold?”

Sans' voice snapped him back to the present.

“N-no,” Papyrus said, failing to be convincing.

Sans shut his book and sat up.

“Papyrus, it's too cold up here for you with just that shirt,” he said, worriedly.

“No, m'fine,” the little skeleton said, curling up tighter.

Papyrus pulled up his book, studying the blocking stance. First, the hands are by the side, then they come up to cross in front of—

Something plopped over him, covering him in darkness. He pulled it off and realized that it was his brother's jacket. He looked over at Sans, sitting in his long sleeved shirt.

“Sans, wait, now you'll be—”

“ _Put_. _It_. _On_.”

Sans echoed the firm tone Papyrus had taken and got the hint. He put on his brother's jacket, pulling the hood over his head. It was certainly warmer, and the drafts could no longer filter down his collar. But he felt terrible that his brother would now be too chilled without it.

Hours went by, and still no sign of the Royal Guard. Sans could tell it was late, so he shut his book.

“Pap, looks like they won't be coming back today,” he sighed.

Papyrus closed his book and yawned. “Nope.”

They stood up and left the little nook for the night, knowing they would return in the morning.

On the fifth day of their watch from the reading nook, the Guard marched down the torch-lit trail. The two brothers watched in breathless silence, hoping that they wouldn't be spotted from this massive height.

They were incredibly grateful that the unit hadn't deviated from the path to check on the rest of the valley—they were clearly eager to return straight to the cavern. It took a while for them to traverse across the valley, but when they had disappeared through the miniscule purple doorway, the two brothers heaved a sigh of relief.

While it was unknown when the Guards would switch with those few who remained at the building site, the sight of the scores of Guards returning to the confines of the city took part of the dread away from their souls.

The first thing they did was return to the shelter to put away their books and notes. Then Sans grabbed his empty haversack, and they transported to the darkened area. They quickly collected as many mushrooms as they could stuff in the bag. Then they headed back to prepare a dinner of roasted mouseshroom nightlights.

Given that the mushrooms were a renewable resource, Sans had no problem eating a plate full of the luscious fungus. While there were still tiny bits of other food remaining in the pantry, they prepared only the mushrooms that night. They ate their fill, both brothers feeling quite content and happy having a full tummy after the short duration of going to bed hungry.

They washed their dishes together, and as they were putting them away, Sans spoke.

“I'm going to head out for a bit, Pap. I won't be long. There's just something I need to do.”

Papyrus looked up from the bucket he was drying and frowned. “O-okay....”

Sans entered the fire room his brother was in and tilted his head reassuringly. “Don't be sad, Pap. I'd have you come with me, but I really want you to get warmed up in here after the long day in the cold. Really, I won't be too long. Honest.”

Hearing that his brother would have taken him to where he was going helped Papyrus feel a little better—it must not be somewhere dangerous. He smiled and nodded understandingly.

“Warm your bones up, Pap,” Sans said, putting on his jacket. “And when I get back, I'll make us some tea before bed, ok?”

Papyrus liked the sound of that. “Okay! Please, be careful, Sans....”

Sans grinned. “I will.”

Then he was gone.

He appeared in the valley corner.

His grin faded, and his face became gravely serious. He had been waiting for this opportunity since they had returned from the city that terrible day.

He wasn't sure if he could do it, or if it was even possible to do. He hated that he didn't know enough about the capabilities of skeletal magic, that he had to guess about everything thus far. But, then again, he and his brother had managed quite well figuring out how to use their magic. This was just one more step, one more technique he wanted to learn.

No. One more technique he _needed_ to learn.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, clenching his hands into tight fists within the fabric.

Sans shut his eyes tightly, then opened them wide, only to narrow them fiercely.

_Never again._ _Never will I be forced into a position of helplessness again._

He clenched his teeth in deep focus, determined to figure out a way to create bones—without the use of his left hand.

_Never again!_


	56. Chapter 56

Papyrus sat on the bed, head propped up on his pillow, reading his book as it rested on his sternum. He was reading a book he had read hundreds of times of accounts of Royal Guard members who did courageous and heroic feats. It was one of many that he owned that had been written by the historians hoping to keep the memories of former Royal Guards alive, and had always fascinated Papyrus.

Nowadays—ever since the horrific attack that had happened a month and a half ago—he read the accounts to learn from the Guards of the past. He wanted to be a better protector of his brother—the image of Sans being held firmly in the cat's arms still haunted him terribly—and he hoped to glean as much important information from the documented accounts as he could.

If only his mother was still alive....

Papyrus barely remembered her, but Sans had told him story after story of her ventures in the Royal Guard. She was a strong warrior, and Papyrus wished he could learn from her...and see her again...and be held in her arms...and...and....

Papyrus blinked back tears and reeled his wandering mind back to the pages of his book. With a sad sigh, he continued reading about Fossor, the badger monster who constructed a massive, complex, underground tunnel system that he used to spy on the human battle camps. When he had learned of the humans' plans to burn down several of the nearby monster villages, he realized that he wouldn't be able to inform his captain in time. So he singlehandedly evacuated the villages, one by one, through his tunnel system, leading them to the safety of the Royal Guard stronghold he was stationed at. Not a single monster perished when the humans attacked the empty villages because of him.

Papyrus lowered the angle of the book in his hands as he processed the story. He wished that he had the quick-thinking brilliance of Fossor. As soon as he saw his brother missing and the fleeing cat down the alleyway near where his brother had been, he should have called for help. But, then again, calling for help might have gotten him taken to an orphanage, leaving Sans held by the cat and his thugs, and they might have—

Sans stepped through the large, blue flame in the main room near the opening to the shelter—as if he had come through the normal entrance itself. As soon as he was through, he collapsed onto his stomach, shaking and panting for breath.

Papyrus would have been panicked to see his brother return home like this, and he _had_ been the first few nights Sans came back in this state. However, every night, after dinner, since the Royal Guard unit made their way back through the large purple doors over a month ago, Sans had gone off for a couple hours by himself, and every night, he came home severely exhausted and weakened.

Papyrus' panic had slowly turned to worry over the weeks, not knowing exactly what his brother was doing that caused him to end up like this, night after night. At first, when he asked Sans what had happened, Sans had just said it was nothing—which it clearly _was not._ Then, a few nights later, he admitted to training his magic in the valley corner to make himself stronger, and Papyrus realized that, just as he himself was studying from his books how to be a better defender for his brother, his brother's efforts were in response to the terrible attack.

That didn't make seeing his brother in this condition any easier, and as the nights went on, Papyrus felt his concern leaden in the bottom of his stomach, his soul saddened to see his brother like this. While they had a small, steady supply of edible forage—mushrooms, cattails, reeds, white pine nuts, and whatever salvageable food had washed up on the mounds of the rubbish pit—Sans still barely ate, making sure his brother ate well, despite the fact that the last of the market food had been consumed shortly after their attack. He also slept much more, staying in bed whenever he wasn't helping Papyrus with meals, chores, or the hour or two they spent filling his haversack with foraged food. His hunger and tiredness, combined with the training he put himself through every night, was taking a toll on Sans that Papyrus could clearly—and heartbreakingly—see.

Papyrus shut his book and rushed off the bed, kneeling by his brother's side as he had done nightly. He placed his hands up and down his brother's trembling body, from his skull to his feet, but his hands didn't glow green, signaling that, thankfully, his brother wasn't physically injured.

Papyrus sat back on his legs, rubbing his brother's back soothingly with his hand.

“Sans?” he whispered softly. “You okay?”

Sans continued gulping down air, the sweat rolling down his skull as he turned his head to face his brother.

“I'm, _hehh, hehh,_ fine...,” he croaked between gasps, his eyes barely open.

Papyrus scrunched his face slightly as he gave a small, breathy grumble, not believing his brother for a second.

“Sans, let me make you some roasted mushrooms,” he said, starting to get up.

Sans reached out his hand and gently grabbed his brother's wrist to stop him.

“I already, _hehh, hehh,_ had dinner...,” Sans gasped softly, shaking his head weakly.

“Sans, you had _snow,”_ Papyrus answered sternly, narrowing his eyes.

“And it...was _delicious...,”_ Sans breathed with a grin, his eyes shutting.

“Sans...,” Papyrus whimpered as he shut his eyes. “You've got to eat _food_. _Real_ food. And you're overdoing it with your training—you're working yourself too hard. You've got to take better care of yourself, Sans.... Because if you don't.... And with your health already too low.... If something happened....”

Papyrus clenched his fists as they rested upon his legs, the thought of his life without his big brother painfully unbearable. The sudden sound of a small snore snapped his attention back to the present. He opened his eyes and looked down.

Sans had fallen asleep where he lay, still on his stomach on the snowy floor.

Papyrus sighed sadly, then stood up, roused his brother so that, with his help, he was able to make it to the bed. Once Sans had slipped under the covers and collapsed onto his pillow, Papyrus tucked him in.

The little skeleton stood there, stroking his brother's forehead gently, Sans already fast asleep once more. With his other hand, he checked his brother's HP.

53 HP/1 HP

Papyrus heaved a shuddering sigh, tears brimming in his eyes. His HP had been at 58 the night before.

_Sans...I don't want to lose you...._

Sans woke up slowly, grunting as he rolled over onto his side, facing the center of the room. The scent of roasted mushrooms wafted over to him, making his mouth water as he opened his eyes.

Papyrus was placing their plates, filled with food, down at their places. As Sans sat up, Papyrus looked over at him, smiling wide.

“Oh good!” he exclaimed cheerily. “You're awake!”

Sans shifted his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Pap?” he yawned. “You made breakfast? Already?”

“Yup,” Papyrus beamed. “I've been awake for a while, so I got the chores out of the way, and made us a nummy breakfast!”

Sans got out of bed, stretched, then walked over to the table sleepily. When he saw their plates, his eyes widened.

Slices of roasted mouseshroom nightlights sat beside wedges of roasted tomatoes and grilled cattail stalks, all sprinkled with crushed pine nuts.

“Papyrus,” Sans breathed. “That's a _lot_ of food....”

Papyrus nodded cheerfully. “Yes it is. Go ahead, sit down.” He gestured to Sans' seat as he was already sitting on his own.

Sans slowly sat down, eyeing the food hungrily, but worriedly. This was no meager breakfast, this was a mild feast. And his brother had gone and made him a plate—it was food that Papyrus could have eaten himself another day. What if they ran out, what if—

His thoughts were interrupted by his brother's voice.

“We're going to play a game,” he said, shutting his eyes as he smiled wide.

“A... _game_...?” Sans raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Yup,” Papyrus opened his eyes and picked up his fork. “For every bite you take, I will take one myself.”

Sans immediately hated this game.

“Pap—”

“Uh uh,” Papyrus stopped him with a wagging finger. “Food's getting cold. Better make your first move.”

Sans stared at Papyrus incredulously, glaring at him under half-closed eyelids. Then he shut his eyes, sighed, picked up his own fork, and opened his eyes, looking at the food before him. He stabbed a slice of mushroom, and heard his brother do the same. Sans glanced up and saw that Papyrus kept his hand steady, not moving his fork as he watched his brother, the smile never leaving his face.

Sans raised the fork as his brother lifted his own, mirroring his movements. When Sans opened his mouth, so did Papyrus. If it hadn't been a waste of food that could have fed his brother, Sans would have found the situation funny. He put the mushroom into his mouth and chewed, as did Papyrus.

The taste of the mushroom mixed with the crushed pine nuts made him involuntarily moan happily. He immediately felt terrible—he shouldn't be eating all this food. He was still kicking himself for feasting on mushrooms after their first few days of foraging when the Royal Guard returned to the city. They went through those mushrooms quickly, and if the Royal Guard or the other monsters left the cavern again, that would be an end to their daily foraging. Whatever was left in their pantry would be it, so Sans needed to make sure it was fully stocked up, and if he kept eating from it, then....

He glanced up again and saw Papyrus, patiently waiting, the mushroom piece long since chewed and swallowed.

“Pap...,” he groaned. “Just eat. Don't wait for me....”

Papyrus shook his head. “Nope. It's your turn. I can't go until you make your move.”

Sans grumbled softly and ate a tomato wedge. It tasted _amazingly_ good roasted. He couldn't believe these were the same tomatoes from the half-rotting barrel-full they found washed up earlier that week in the rubbish pit. The taste reminded him of that delicious soup he loved—and missed—so much.

He then picked up a grilled cattail stalk, finding it interesting that his brother would choose to cook it when they had always had them raw and chopped up. He recalled their crisp, cucumber-like taste in their salads long ago. Biting into it, he was surprised to find that it was similar to roasted asparagus. These water sausages were curious plants indeed.

They “played” through their breakfast, Papyrus matching his brother's choices, until both plates were empty. Sans sat back in his seat, feeling extremely full and content. He looked over at Papyrus, who was still smiling and looking rather pleased with himself, and Sans couldn't help but laugh softly.

“Pap, that was _so good,”_ Sans said, patting his full tummy.

“Thanks, Sans,” Papyrus grinned. “I wanted to try something different, and it came out pretty good.”

“That it did, Pap,” Sans nodded slowly. “Was almost as good as the market food....”

Papyrus' smile faltered. “Yeah...I know....”

Sans looked his brother squarely in the eyes. “We'll get back there again one day. I'm working hard to make sure of that.”

Papyrus tilted his head curiously. “How?”

Sans averted his eyes. “I've been training, trying to get myself to be...better. So that what happened never happens again to us. _To you_....”

Papyrus felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “Sans, I don't want you training yourself to exhaustion because of me....”

Sans sat up straight, and Papyrus saw a fire in his eyes.

“I never want to see you hurt again, Papyrus,” he said, firmly. “And I will train and practice for the rest of my life if it means you never have to go through something like that again.”

Papyrus looked down at his empty plate. His brother was doing the same thing he was doing—working hard to make sure his brother was safe from the next time. _If_ there was a next time. Which, if this mountain had proved anything, was more of a _when._

Papyrus sat on the bed, reading. His brother was off doing his usual, after-dinner training. Papyrus was just glad that, after his breakfast “game” a couple months ago, Sans had continued eating meals with him. He had mentioned to Papyrus that his nightly training had improved when his diet had, which didn't surprise Papyrus in the least.

Sans had been coming home less and less weakened, although, whatever training regimen he was putting himself through was still taking a lot out of him. He wished that his brother would share what he was doing, as it still concerned the little skeleton to see his big brother so drained after each session.

Papyrus had been in the valley corner a few times a week training his own magic with his brother, but had seen no change in his brother's magic. Perhaps he was working on a new form of transporting magic—maybe even attempting to escape the mountain with his magic.

He shuddered. He sure hoped that wasn't what his brother was planning. Papyrus still had occasional nightmares of the result of what happened to his brother the last time he had tried to transport outside of Mt. Ebott.

Papyrus himself had learned quite a lot from his studies of Royal Guard techniques and the stories of Guards' amazing feats. He incorporated tactics and stances into his practice battles with his brother, and saw that it improved his power and his defense. Even Sans had mentioned how impressed he was with Papyrus' disciplined fight patterns, finding them difficult to dodge and counter.

Sans stepped through the blue flame, returning home for the night. He staggered slightly, then dropped to his knees, and Papyrus rushed to his side.

“Sans, you okay?” he asked his usual, nightly inquiry.

Sans' eyes were shut as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he panted slowly. As he opened his eyes to meet Papyrus', a wide grin grew upon his face.

“Papyrus _..._ ,” he breathed heavily. “Let's go to the market tomorrow....”


	57. Chapter 57

The two brothers did not sleep well that night. As much as they both wanted to visit the market again, the idea of returning to the city brought fresh waves of anxiety and dread. By the time he woke up the following morning, Sans' confidence to protect his brother waned significantly. The only reason they kept with their plan to head to the market was because they desperately wanted proper food again.

And, deep down, Sans knew that they needed to return someday, and fear and anxiety would only make them put that day off again and again. He had worked hard to get to this point—he couldn't back down and remain isolated in their safe shelter forever.

_We'll be fine,_ he kept telling himself, as convincingly as he could while they did their morning chores. _I'm better prepared this time. We'll be ok...._

Neither skeleton desired to eat, the anxious tensions in their stomachs twisting far too much to allow for food. Papyrus was sure that his ribcage was rattling from the trembling in his soul.

They wordlessly got dressed, put on their shoes, and Sans put on his jacket. He reached for his brother's scarf out of habit, but pulled his hand back when he realized what he was doing.

“No,” Papyrus' soft voice sounded behind him. “I need that. I have to hide my face with it.”

Sans turned around slowly to look at his brother. Papyrus stood up tall—almost bravely, Sans thought—but his eyes betrayed the crippling fear in his soul.

“Pap, no, we'll figure something else out,” Sans said, his eyebrows furrowing sadly.

“No,” Papyrus reiterated, a touch more firmly this time. “I want to wear Mommy's cape.”

Sans felt a sharp tug on his soul. For as long as Papyrus could speak, he had always called the strip of red cloth his “scarf.” Hearing him refer to the precious fabric as “Mommy's cape” underscored how much it meant to his little brother.

And those terrible monsters had tried to kill him with it.

“It's okay,” Papyrus answered Sans' hesitation softly. “I want to wear it.”

Sans nodded solemnly, then took down the strip from their mother's Royal Guard cape. As he turned back towards his brother, holding the cloth between both his hands, he saw Papyrus wince, despite his effort in trying to hide it.

Sans walked over to his brother and draped it over Papyrus' head to form the “hood.” With trembling hands deathly afraid of upsetting his brother, he wrapped it around Papyrus' face to cover his skeletal jaw. Papyrus flinched, jerking back with a strangled whimper deep in his throat as his eyes snapped shut tightly.

Sans dropped the fabric immediately, pulling his hands away and stepping back from his brother.

“ _I'm sorry! I'm sorry!”_ Sans apologized, quickly and profusely, waggling his hands.

Papyrus tried to pull the fabric back up over his face where it had slackened.

“No...no, don't be,” he shook his head vigorously. “It's not you, it's.... You didn't hurt me, I'm okay, I just....”

The loose cloth slipped off his head and fell away onto his shoulders in a slack heap.

Sans' arms dropped to his side sadly. “Pap, you don't have to do this. You can stay here, where it's safe, and—”

“ _No!”_ Papyrus answered firmly. “I told you last night—I'm going with you. I'm _not_ letting you go there alone!”

Sans looked at his little brother, standing there with his scarf loosely draped about his shoulders as his eyes ignited in the fire of strong determination. In that moment, Sans couldn't help but be reminded of his mother, with her flowing red cape and the same tall, dark eyes she had passed down to Papyrus.

_When did he get so big?_ Sans wondered to himself.

“Ok,” Sans said with a relenting sigh. “But the moment you want to come home, please, tell me, and we'll head straight back here.”

Papyrus nodded, having already agreed to it the night before. “I will.”

Sans fixed the red strip of cloth upon Papyrus' head and face, his little brother giving tiny winces and flinches every now and then that he had hoped had gone unnoticed. When he was done, Sans stepped back.

“Ready?” he asked, his cheerful tone wavering slightly.

Papyrus nodded, the scarf remaining firmly in place.

Sans shouldered his empty haversack, and in the next moment, they were gone.

They arrived at the same edge of the masonry work area as they always had done, but this had been the first time since the incident. Although the crates in the corner blocked any view into the open area from where they stood, the memory of what had happened on the other side struck both brothers, sending waves of fear up their spines and images reeling in their minds.

“C'mon,” Sans said grimly, taking hold of Papyrus' hand again. “Let's get away from here.”

They slipped down the familiar alleyway between the first two buildings, making extra sure that it was empty before they entered it. The two brothers sprinted down the narrow path, eager to immerse themselves in the safety of the crowded street.

They didn't even pause at the end of the alley—they went headlong right into the usual, thick traffic of passersby. Rather than walk on the side of the street, making sure not to be in anyone's way or to be spotted as a pair of skeleton children, they walked in the middle of the road. Monsters rushed on either side of them, in opposite directions, and the flow of individuals brought Sans and Papyrus a protective barrier between them and a particular green cat who might be hiding in one of the many alleyways, waiting to snatch them.

They weaved through the currents of monsters, making their way hastily to the market. There was no stopping by the community center today—they neither had any mushrooms to donate, nor desire to remain in the city longer than they needed to. This was to be a quick trip, nothing more.

Turning down a corner, continuing to take the main street, Papyrus saw a flash of purple in the crowd and—thinking it was the purple bird—froze with a sharp gasp. Terror paralyzed him, and his body started trembling.

Sans, who had not let go of his brother's hand for a moment, felt his pause and turned to him immediately.

“Papyrus?!” he whispered in alarm. “What is it?!”

“The purple bird,” Papyrus whimpered, more to himself than to Sans. He stared ahead, but his widened eyes weren't seeing, for they were staring at the images in his mind. “The purple bird. He's going to find us. He's going to kill us. He's going to—”

Sans grasped Papyrus' shoulders and put his face close to him, as the flow of monsters around them continued passing on by, giving no mind to the panic-stricken child on the street as they went about their business.

“Papyrus,” he said gently. “I saw the purple monster, but it wasn't a bird. It was a different monster, Pap. It's not them. _It's not them.”_

Papyrus blinked, then looked into Sans' eyes, trembling terribly. “Y-you sh-sh-sure...?”

“Yes, look,” Sans said, turning to look over his shoulder, moving his head aside so Papyrus could see.

Up ahead of them was a purple buck with jade antlers.

Papyrus' eyes darted around the crowd before them, ensuring that the deer was the only purple monster in the vicinity, then relaxed, leaning upon his brother, who hugged him close. Papyrus started hyperventilating and shaking as the pent up anxiety released itself through his body.

“It's all right, Pap,” Sans whispered soothingly into Papyrus' ear, rubbing his little brother's back gently. “You're ok. It wasn't them. You're safe.”

Papyrus struggled not to cry, to hold it together.

_Fear is what the enemy uses when it knows it can't beat you hand to hand._

He repeated the quote from one of his Royal Guard books he had committed to memory over and over again in his mind as he calmed down.

_I am strong. I am powerful. I can do this._

Papyrus regained control over his breathing and his body eased out of the tension gripping him.

“Okay,” he whispered, pulling back from the hug. “I'm sorry, Sans. I'm okay now.”

Sans put his hands back on his brother's shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

“Don't be sorry, Pap,” he answered in a low, gentle voice. “You have done _nothing_ wrong. Don't apologize for what _they_ did to you—they don't deserve it.”

Papyrus gave a few quick and short nods. “Yeah....”

“We can still go home if you want,” Sans offered.

“N-no, no...,” Papyrus shook his head. “No, I can do this. I can do this.”

Sans gave his brother a loving rub on the top of his hooded skull, then took his hand and continued down the busy street.

As they entered the market, they felt as if they had entered a safe zone. There were far too many monsters to witness anything, no alleyways to be taken down through, and the familiarity of the shopkeepers ensured the two brothers that no harm would befall them if the vicious cat and his thugs showed up.

The familiar smells of bread and sugary baked goods wafting in the air surrounded them, and Sans and Papyrus breathed the scent in with deep breaths, sighing happily as they exhaled.

Before visiting any of the shops, however, Sans needed to do something.

Each shop had been constructed on the vastly wide street, and at the back of the shops, stalls, and stands were buildings. Between each building, where an alleyway would normally be, stood a high wall, ensuring that shoplifters or thieves didn't sneak through alleys to pilfer items without the shopkeepers knowing. Between the jeweler's shop and the produce stand was a large alley space, blocked off ten feet from the edges of the building by a brick wall with a large wooden door.

The little alcove was designed for the shopkeepers to place crates, barrels, and baskets of donations, unsellable food, and other goods for the charity workers to distribute to monsters in need. Volunteers would come up the alley with a cart, open the wooden door, and fill the cart with the items to wheel back to the community center. It saved the charity workers so much time, cutting through the alley to the market, rather then journeying several streets the long way.

As the wooden door was never locked, and since it would be a prime opportunity for any thieving monsters to take advantage of, a Royal Guard sentry post had been placed at the end of the alley on the opposite end, allowing only charity workers to proceed down the long pathway. The sentry not only guarded the alley leading to the door, but they also offered information, took reports on criminal activity, and responded to emergencies.

Sans had learned of the little alcove's purpose years ago from Pipermel, having inquired curiously about the odd wooden door, the strange tucked-away spot, and the random items filling the space.

He and Papyrus went towards the little space, and—making sure no one was looking—slipped between a pile of crates and a large barrel. They crept to the large, wooden door, glancing over their shoulders as they inched silently towards it.

Sans put his hand on the handle and twisted it, pushing the heavy door forward, with Papyrus helping. He was extremely grateful that the noise in the market drowned out the creaking sound from the massive hinges, and they were too far away from the sentry at the end for them to notice.

Once on the other side, they shut the door. Sans studied the area, then nodded to his brother silently. He would now be able to transport to this spot to get to the market, safe from the vicious cat, thanks to the sentry at the far end of the long alleyway.

It was incredibly risky, which is why Sans had never considered it before. If they were caught, they would be in serious trouble, for they were in an area they weren't allowed to be in. Sans was prepared to use the excuse of their being lost, but he wasn't sure if the authorities would believe him, and then they faced the possibility of being split up and sent to different orphanages. However, for the sake of his brother's nutritional well-being, he was willing to take the shortcut, far, far away from the masonry area where his brother almost lost his life.

They went back through the door, carefully slipped out of the small space, and returned to the market street to begin their shopping.

They went to the start of the street, heading to the woodshop, as they were almost out of charcoal pieces. As they left the woodshop, Papyrus halted and pointed across the street.

“Sans,” he whispered. “Look.”

There was a large sign next to a massive wooden crate on the left of the blacksmith's shop. Sans' eyes grew wide as he read it.

> METAL DONATIONS NEEDED!
> 
> Your Kingdom is looking for any and all pieces of metal for an important building project! No item too small or too large!
> 
> Please deposit here!
> 
> Your King and Queen thank you immensely for your contribution to this extremely important project!

“'An important building project'?” Sans read the words again.

“Do you think that's the structure they're building?” Papyrus asked under his breath.

“It must be,” Sans replied. “But...why the need for so much metal? Tools?”

“Maybe,” Papyrus whispered.

“Let's see if we can find out,” Sans said, heading over to the blacksmith shop.

The Aaron was in the back at his forge, and they watched as he poured various metallic objects into a large iron bucket encrusted with layers of metal. He took a long pole and twisted it into a hole on the side, then picked it up using the pole, pushed it into the fiery forge, and twisted the pole free. He then took another bucket that was already inside the forge, glowing orange along the top, and, using the pole, pulled it out and poured the molten metal into a large, flat, rectangular mould.

The two skeleton children watched, mesmerized. Sans looked on as the red-hot metal spread out slowly to fill the mould, when Papyrus nudged him, pointing at the back right corner of the shop. Several cooled-down, finished sheets of metal were leaning up against the wall.

The two brothers looked at each other curiously in wonder. As much as they wanted to ask the Aaron blacksmith what he was making, they didn't want to bother him while he was hard at work. So, their minds filled with unanswered questions, the two reluctantly walked away from the blacksmith's shop.

They visited the bakery, produce shop, and general foodstuffs store, filling Sans' haversack with luscious foods they had direly missed and desperately needed. Their mouths watered with each purchase, eagerly anticipating their return home to prepare their first proper meal in a long time.

However, they had to see Pipermel before they headed home. So they finished their trip by paying their vulpine friend a visit.

The moment Pipermel laid her amber eyes on the two skeleton brothers, she gasped, dropped her book, and ran around the counter. Sans and Papyrus stood, stunned, as Pipermel fell to her knees and threw her arms around them, pulling them into a tight embrace.

“Oh Sans! Papyrus!” Pipermel cried. “Thank goodness! I was so worried!”

Sans was taken aback, and immediately felt sorry for their absence from the market. He had no idea that Pipermel would have been so deeply concerned.

“Sorry, Pipermel,” Sans apologized as his head lay on his friend's shoulder. “We didn't mean to—”

“When the Royal Guard came by, asking if I'd seen any skeleton children,” Pipermel said, cutting Sans off. “I had a terrible feeling something might have happened to you!”

Both Sans and Papyrus pulled back out of the embrace, exchanging a worried glance between each other.

“Th-the Royal Guard?” Sans stammered.

“Yes,” Pipermel said, nodding. “They came through the market asking all of us shopkeepers. Said there was a serious incident, and were looking for two skeleton children.”

Papyrus' jaw fell open behind the scarf covering his face, and Sans' pupils shrank in fear. The Royal Guard was looking for them? A sickening feeling grew in the pit of Sans' stomach—they had used magic against other monsters. Sans had always been warned never to do so by his parents. Did they break the law in doing so?!

Sans thought quickly.

“Pap, did you hear that?” he said, casting a meaningful glance at his brother. “There's more skeleton children around here!”

“Wow!” Papyrus answered, catching on and playing along. “We're not the only skeleton family down here, Sans!”

Pipermel looked from one brother to the other, and sighed with relief. “Oh, thank goodness, you boys weren't involved in anything. I'm so glad! But....” Her voice trailed off as she furrowed her brow in confusion. “I haven't seen you boys in some time. Where have you been?”

“Oh,” Sans laughed, hoping he didn't come off as nervous as he felt, as he desperately sought to come up with an alibi. “We've been busy.... Helping our dad.... Yeah, he wanted us to help him with...you know...the, uh, _kingdom project._ You know, that really big one the king and queen have been working on.”

Papyrus nodded in agreement with whatever it was that Sans was talking about.

Pipermel blinked. “You've been helping your father with the kingdom project? Doing what?”

Sans stared back blankly. “Uh....”

“Gathering metal!” Papyrus chimed in quickly.

“Yes!” Sans exclaimed, pointing at his brother suddenly. He carefully formulated his words. “Our dad had us searching our house for metal we didn't need. Searching around the city looking for scraps of it. You know. Kingdom work. _Important_ kingdom work.”

Papyrus nodded again, indicating that what his brother was saying was genuine truth.

Pipermel's eyes shifted between the two nodding brothers, then she heaved a relieved sigh.

“I'm just grateful you two are all right,” she said, rising to her feet. She gave the two brothers a tender ruffle upon their hooded heads.

They didn't stay too long, because, as they told Pipermel, they needed to return home to help their dad out with more kingdom work, so after a brief chat, they bid their farewells and left the shop.

They left the market and entered the first alleyway they came across, and left the city. The moment they returned home, they pulled down the hoods that hid their skeletal features and faced each other worriedly.

“Sans,” Papyrus whimpered softly. “The Royal Guard is looking for us....”

“I know,” Sans nodded solemnly.

“I-it's my fault, isn't it?” Papyrus sniffled, tears brimming his eyes.

“No, Pap, it's not,” Sans said firmly, grasping his brother's shoulders and looking him squarely in the eyes. “You used your magic against those monsters in self-defense. It's not your fault.”

Papyrus' lower lip quivered, and a tear trickled down his cheekbone.

Sans pulled his little brother to him and hugged him tightly.

“It will be all right, Pap,” Sans whispered to soothe his brother. “We'll be all right. I won't let anything bad happen to us. To you.”

Papyrus hugged back, sniffling worriedly.

Sans held his brother, offering words of comfort and encouragement to him, as his own mind raced with anxious thoughts about the implications of his brother's use of magic to harm another being.


End file.
